Now, it was nothing but scraps.

They fluttered down, landing on the pristine bed, amidst Laura's hair, and over her body.

She stared, bewildered, at the little boy before her.

His skin was perfect.

His hair, a rich brown.

His features? Echoes of Mark's.

Almost instantly, Laura pieced together who he was. With a complexion as white as a sheet, she bent down, trying to gather the torn fragments...

But Edwin, a mix of guilt and resentment in his tone, demanded, “Why are you always around?"

Laura's face lost what little color it had left.

Just then, Lina, arms laden with fruit, walked in. She took in the scene with the two children and looked about, bewildered... Where had Mark and Peter gone?

Lina, doing her best to soothe Edwin, reached for her phone to call her husband.

Lina kept her voice down, querying, “Why's Edwin here? The kids seem to be at loggerheads."

This revelation was a weight off Peter's shoulders.

After the call, Peter turned to Mark, his words rushed.

"Edwin's at the hospital. How'd he wind up there?"

Mark figured Edwin must have overheard his phone chat.

In a flurry, he looped back, ringing Cecilia to relay the news.

Relief washed over Mark.

Then, he made a beeline for the hospital.

In the room, Lina busied herself tidying the floor, while Laura sat on the bed, lost in thought.