Chapter 125

As dusk settled, Stella Valentine and Joy Fairsprene finally arrived at the orphanage.

The setting sun cast long shadows of the iron fence across the yard. Only a few volunteers remained, tidying up toys.

The children's laughter had faded, replaced by an oppressive silence.

"May I ask who you are...?" The director adjusted her reading glasses, eyeing them warily.

Stella tucked a stray lock behind her ear. "I'm a friend of Oliver's mother."

The director's expression darkened instantly.

The office walls were peeling badly, the mottled patches like scars left by time. The director served tea in cups with hairline cracks.

"Oliver's condition..." She hesitated. "The psychologist diagnosed him with Autism Spectrum Disorder."

Joy's cup trembled, spilling tea across the table.

"That child has witnessed too much." The director sighed, wiping the spill. "What adult could endure such blows, let alone a five-year-old?"

Stella withdrew a bank card from her bag, fingers shaking slightly. "Please do everything you can for him."

"This..." The director hesitated. "May I ask about Oliver's mother now...?"

"The doctors say..." Stella's voice was feather-light. "Three months at most."

A terrible silence filled the room.

Oliver's dorm was smaller than expected. Four beds crammed together, the boy sitting alone by the window like a frozen statue.

"Oliver?" Stella knelt to meet his eye level.

The boy turned. His hollow gaze sent chills down their spines.

Joy suddenly covered her mouth, tears spilling over.

"Psychologists say such children build walls around their hearts," the director explained softly. "Unless you're someone truly important to them..."

Stella began humming Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, her voice breaking on the notes.

Oliver's eyelashes fluttered.

Then he suddenly leapt up, shoving everyone out and slamming the door. Heart-wrenching sobs pierced through the wood.

In the car, Joy's nails dug into the steering wheel.

"I'm adopting him," she declared abruptly.

Stella watched the blurring cityscape, a stone settling in her stomach. If one day she... What would happen to Ethan and Luna?

Her phone rang sharply.

"Mr. Alistair." Her voice was thick.

A pause on the line. "I'm here."

Those two words made her eyes burn instantly.

She haltingly recounted Oliver's story, her words dissolving into incoherence by the end. Mr. Alistair listened silently until she choked out, "Autism... it must be so painful?"

"It's like..." His voice softened unexpectedly. "Living forever at the bottom of the sea."

The metaphor made her heart constrict.

When they reached the apartment, Julian Valois was pacing anxiously. Seeing Joy's reddened eyes, he immediately wrapped her in his suit jacket.

"Miss Valentine." Julian hesitated. "He's waiting for you."

During the elevator's thirty-second ascent, Stella counted her racing heartbeats. The familiar scent of cedar enveloped her as the door opened.

Mr. Alistair pressed her against the door, his kiss restrained yet tender.

"Don't be afraid." His lips brushed her earlobe.

She clutched his shirtfront, knuckles whitening. "Mr. Alistair, take me."

His breathing hitched audibly. Yet he simply lifted her effortlessly, depositing her gently on the sofa.

"Stella." He traced the dampness beneath her eyes. "The more I love you, the more I must restrain myself from taking advantage."

Moonlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting them in silver.