The doorbell rang, Ledore answered it. Her little boy ran up and hugged her. She laughed as she stumbled back.

    "How’s your day today, kleptomaniac?" Ledore asked her son playfully.

    "It is great, mommy!" Rico exclaimed. "Can we go again sometime?"

    "Certainly, dearie. Anytime you like." Ledore felt guilty for her son not having a father when growing up, she gaves Rico everything he wanted. She practically spoiled him rotten.

    "Yay!" Rico jumped up.

    "Okay, now off you go to the bath, or I won’t let you go I if you’re so dirty!" Ledore shooed.

    Rico happily skipped off to the bathroom. Ledore turned her attention to Fatima, who’s still standing at the doorway.

    "So, what now, sis?" Ledore asked wryly with her arms crossed. "You didn’t spill, did you?"

    "Of course not, Lila! What the hell makes you think of that?" Time looked at her shocked, she felt underestimated. "Girl, you’re getting weirder day by day. Must be a lack of male in your life." Ledore glanced at her coldly,

    "You know well enough it’s not."

    "K. But don’t you know that Rico might ask about his father in the future? Don’t you ever think about that?" Fatima lectured harshly.

    "When time came, I’ll tell him," Ledore answered flatly.

    "Just because you have spent your childhood in misery didn’t mean your son has to have the same treatment!" Fatima roared. Ledore slapped her, but her words were cut off by the voice from the bathroom.

    "Mommy!" Rico screamed panicked. "The bathtub water is spilling out! I can’t stop it!"

    Ledore forgot about all her argument with Fatima and let her mother instinct took over. "Don't worry, honey! Mommy's coming!" She dashed upstairs to the bathroom with Tima close on her heels.

    Everyone sat down at the dinning table exhausted after the bathroom incident. All except Rico. His adrenaline was pumped up more than ever after his bubble bath. Like any three-years-old would.

    Ledore tiredly helped her excited son to his dinner. She didn't notice Fatima examining her intensely. Nor his son's curious eyes.

    "Mommy," Rico called after a while of fidgeting with his mind. "Who's that big man who talked to you at the beach today?"

    "Impressive, Rico. A very long sentence," Ledore complied her son. Her voice showed a hint of shock.

    "Mommy!" Rico whined. "You are not answering my question!" Fatima looked at Ledore amused, waiting for her reply.

    "That man said he admires my drawing very much," Ledore managed to answer after recomposing herself.

    "Who is he?" Rico asked.

    "A stranger." Fatima raised an eye brow. Ledore tried to ignore it.

    "But you said we shouldn't talk to stranger," her son challenged innocently.

    "Yes, but I also said we have to be polite as we must be careful," Ledore said impatiently. "Now why don't you go put the dished in the sink. I've some work to do."

    "Can you play with me later?"

    "Maybe not. Mommy has work waiting to be done. Maybe Auntie Fatima will be willing to. Ask her politely." She left the table in a most troubled manner.

    Ledore sat at her desk. Her mind was racing. She couldn't take her eyes off the painting of her son. She had known that her son would ask this question one day. Sooner or later, her secret would be blown.

    But not this early. She wasn't prepared.

    Her hand flew up. It stopped in mid-air. No, she controlled her emotions. For my son and myself, I will not lose my temper.

    She calmed herself, squeezing her brain to think of a way to escape the reality.