Chapter 2

I woke up again in a hospital.

A passing lady had brought me in.

The doctor said my condition was very serious and asked why I had no family with me.

"Sorry doctor, I have no family."

The doctor's eyes immediately filled with sympathy.

I smiled bitterly. A complete stranger could show me kindness, yet the mother and son I'd poured my heart out for seven years could be so cruel.

For the first time, I felt these years truly weren't worth it.

After several IV drips and the fever subsiding, I left the hospital.

I really wanted to take a spontaneous trip and clear my head.

But life isn't a TV drama. I hadn't worked all these years, and Laura only gave me a little grocery money. I hadn't saved much at all.

I temporarily stayed at a hotel. The next day, I called my old boss at the TV station.

Before marriage, I was the most popular host on the station's weather program.

When I decided to resign, many managers thought it was a shame.

But I was single-mindedly devoted to Laura and gave up my own future.

Back then, young and impetuous, I truly believed sincerity could be met with sincerity.

What a pitiful ending I got instead.

Seven years away from the camera—I honestly hadn't held much hope.

Unexpectedly, my boss didn't hesitate and directly arranged for me to meet the station director.

Though I'd been busy caring for them mother and son all these years, I still made time to work out, keeping myself in good shape.

Combined with my previously outstanding professional abilities, after discussion the leadership decided to give me another chance.

I took my luggage and moved into the apartment the director prepared for me, starting a new life.

After a week of familiarizing myself with operations, I smoothly returned to work.

My first day back on set broke the highest viewership record of the seven years since I'd left.

The director was especially pleased and held a celebration banquet.

When juniors toasted me, I instinctively refused: "Sorry, I don't drink."

Only after speaking did I remember I wasn't a non-drinker—I'd quit because Laura once said she didn't like me drinking.

Now divorced, whether she liked it or not no longer mattered.

I smiled and accepted the glass: "Just kidding, I can drink!"

With that, I tilted my head back and downed it in one gulp.

After several rounds, I was getting drunk when my phone rang.

It was the police calling.

"Mr. Mark, we've found your nephew."

I sobered up immediately and rushed to the police station by taxi.

When I saw that little guy at the station, my eyes instantly reddened.

They say nephews resemble their uncles—absolutely true.

This little guy was practically a miniature version of me.

Sure enough, the police told me that after genetic comparison with my sister and brother-in-law, they confirmed this was their lost son.

Years ago, my sister had taken Martinez to the park. She turned around to buy him cotton candy, and he disappeared.

My sister, consumed by guilt and grief, had a mental breakdown. Ten days after losing her child, unable to bear it, she committed suicide.

Losing both wife and child in succession, my brother-in-law Tommy aged a decade overnight. This grown man cried like a child.

Watching him hurt so much. At the time, John was only 3 years old and extremely clingy with me—he'd only stop crying when I held him.

But helplessly, to help Tommy search for Martinez, I had to painfully leave John with his grandmother.

A month later, someone said they'd seen a similar-looking child in a town.

Tommy rushed there immediately, only to find the child wasn't even the right gender.

Tommy was heartbroken. In his daze, he fell into a river and drowned.

Not long after, police told me that human traffickers had smuggled the children to America, but the boat they were on had capsized and sunk.

"Everyone on board perished. Martinez should have been among them..."

With that, all leads went completely cold, and Laura and John became my only two remaining relatives.