Chapter One: Life of Mother and Son
The flickering fluorescent light in the tiny kitchen hummed a sad, familiar tune, much like the dull ache that had never truly left Soma Kagen's body. Her hands, rough from endless delivery shifts, moved mechanically as she stirred the meager dinner of rice and beans. Beside her, ten-year-old Adar Kagen sat at the chipped table, meticulously drawing a wild, powerful fighter on a scrap of paper, his brow furrowed in concentration. The silence wasn't a peaceful quiet; it was the heavy quiet of unhealed wounds.
"Mom," Adar finally said, his voice softer than usual, "did Dad ever... did he ever ask about us?"
Soma's stirring hand froze. A jagged piece of memory, sharp and cold, pierced through her. She turned, forcing a smile that felt like broken glass on her lips. "Why, Adar? What makes you ask that?"
He shrugged, not looking up. "Just... kids at school sometimes talk about their dads. And the big houses they live in."
A wave of nausea washed over Soma. Big houses. The Zed family. Words that once represented a terrifying night, now just echoed the crushing weight of their abandonment. "Your father… he's very busy, sweetheart," she began, the familiar lie tasting like ash. But then, she met Adar's innocent, searching gaze. He was no longer a baby. He deserved the truth, no matter how ugly.
She took a deep, shuddering breath, letting the raw anger, the profound hurt, the deep-seated injustice of it all, surge through her before she spoke. "Adar," she started again, her voice low and steady, each word a heavy stone, "your father's family, the Zeds, they're very wealthy and powerful. And when I met him... it was by accident. A terrible accident, for me."
She looked away, her eyes glazing over with the nightmare of that night. She had been barely out of her teens, an orphan abandoned by her own wealthy aunts and uncles, working herself raw as a delivery girl just to put food on her own plate. She had been delivering late, a storm brewing, when she found him a man, sprawled out on the pavement after some party, reeking of expensive alcohol and looking terribly ill.
"I found him after a party," she continued, her voice trembling, ragged with the memory. "He was... slumped, almost unconscious. I only wanted to help. I tried to get him inside, to safety. But then... he forced himself on me, Adar. He tied me. It was… it was a nightmare."
Adar's body went rigid. His crayon dropped, clattering softly on the table. His eyes, usually so bright, were wide with shock, reflecting the horror in his mother's face.
"A month after that night, I found out I was pregnant with you," Soma choked out, her voice barely a whisper. "He found out too. After that, the warnings started. Constant threats. He told me he would kill me if I ever told anyone. He monitored me, Adar. Every single move."
She closed her eyes, a fresh wave of tears pushing through. "He promised me, after he knew about you, that he would cater for us. That we would live comfortably. But it was never comfortable, Adar. It was constant torture." Her voice broke, laden with years of hidden suffering. "Every day was a living hell. He never hit me in public, but behind closed doors, it was… unspeakable."
Adar listened, his small body shaking, trying to grasp the enormity of his mother's words. He had always known their life was hard, but this... this was a darkness he couldn't have imagined.
"His family, the Zeds, they eventually found out about me, about us," Soma continued, her voice rising, raw with years of suppressed agony. "That's when everything burst open. The torturing became extremely severe. They didn't want a stain on their name, especially not a child from... from that night." She gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles white. "They threw me out, Adar. With you, barely two years old, bundled in my arms. No compensation, no justice, nothing but harsh words and slammed doors. We had nowhere to go, no one to turn to. It's been just you and me ever since. That's why you carry my surname, not theirs."
A sob tore through Soma. "I tried to escape so many times, my love. So many times. But every single time, they found out my plan. They always found me before I could truly get away."
She took a ragged breath, her gaze meeting Adar's, and the raw truth in her eyes made his heart clench. "I'm telling you all of this now, Adar," she whispered, her voice heavy with a new, terrifying sadness, "because... I am going to leave you soon. I'm going to go to a far away place."
Adar's eyes widened, a cold dread washing over him. "Leave? Mom, what are you talking about? Where are you going?"
Tears streamed down Soma's face, silent and desperate. "I need you to be strong, my dear. To live happily. Don't be bent on revenge, Adar. Promise me that."
The words hung in the air, cold and sharp. Adar's mind raced, fear twisting in his stomach. "So when are you leaving?" he asked, his voice barely audible, a childish plea mixed with dawning horror.
Soma shook her head, tears blurring her vision as she looked at her son, her precious Adar. "It can happen anytime and anywhere, my love," she choked out, pulling him into a tight, desperate embrace, clinging to him as if he were the only thing holding her together. She buried her face in his hair, her body shaking as she started crying heavily, deep, gut-wrenching sobs that spoke of unbearable pain and an impending, heartbreaking goodbye.