Mark's heart ached.

Had Cecilia and Edwin been living here for two years while he wasn't even aware of the existence of his own son?

The corridor was pitch dark, and mice scurried about, but Cecilia seemed oblivious as she sprinted to the fourth floor.

In the darkness, a small figure sat on the floor outside an apartment.

It was the place where Cecilia and Edwin used to Live.

The child sat there, head drooped as if asleep.

Cecilia, her voice trembling, called out, “Edwin?”

The child didn't respond. Cecilia squatted and gently touched his head.

It was burning.

“He's got a fever!" Her voice wavered.

In a rush, Mark scooped up his son and felt the heat radiating from Edwin's forehead.

“We should get him to the hospital."

He hurried downstairs, and Cecilia followed.

Half an hour later, Edwin lay on a small bed with an IV drip attached to the back of his hand.

The doctor explained that Edwin had caught a cold, hadn't eaten for a while, and had imbalanced electrolytes.

The Fowler family arrived, with Juliette breaking into tears and Korbyn expressing concern for Edwin. After a while, Korbyn pulled Mark aside.

He said, "Mark, I won't hold last time's wedding incident against you.

You and Cecilia simply weren't meant to be. She isn't right for you.

But you must take full responsibility for what happened today."

Mark replied in a hoarse voice, "Yes, it's all my fault."