Zoe thought back to the days she eagerly awaited the baby in Mother's belly with Dad, and the stories she excitedly prepared for her little brother or sister. She recalled all the good times, yet her heart felt an indescribable grievance, and as she thought about it, she cried.
Children don't have overly complex thoughts, but at that moment, she just wanted to cry, her subconscious afraid of losing all those beautiful memories.
"I'm not a child of Dad and Mom, am I? That's the truth, isn't it? So many people around say so, and I heard it. But I'm too scared to tell you. Mom, where do I really come from?"
Even if Zoe believed Isaac when he said that she was not a child of a bad person, she still harbored doubts about her own origins. Ever since she was young, there were always whispers around her. Sometimes adults outside thought she was too little to remember and carelessly spoke their mind, not knowing that this kid was smart and remembered everything from an early age.
