Chapter 38

I looked down and shook my head. In that place, what seemed right was actually wrong. Since they were kids, these folks had been stuck in a hellhole together, thinking it was the right way to live.

"Toby never did anything wrong. He didn't hold grudges or seek revenge. He was super kind to everyone. Even if someone beat him up one day, he'd still smile at them the next and even help them out. Eventually, those little punks started to fear him, calling him a fool."

"One time, a church came by to do some charity work. A priest heard about Toby and called him over, asking why he didn't fight back. Toby said, 'The world I see shouldn't be like this. The world isn't made by someone but seen by someone.' The priest was shocked and said, 'God has become a little boy.'"

Lally grinned with a weird kind of pride, "What God? I never believed in that stuff. Toby's just a good person, and good people don't get messed with by bad people."

I nodded. In the middle of all that darkness, the light of humanity that Toby held onto finally pushed the darkness away, giving him a little piece of peace.

"When Duke and I were kids, Toby taught us to read and write. We kept studying because of him. Toby was the first kid to leave the orphanage. He was amazing. I remember he started getting scholarships in middle school, and the teachers helped him find a place to live. Nancy, can you guess where Toby lived?"

I smiled a bit and said, "Sand Village, right?"

"Exactly!" Lally snapped her fingers. "Zack got adopted because of Toby's help. The days in Sand Village were probably the happiest of my life."

I really admired this kid named Toby, though he wasn't a kid anymore. He was a few years older than Lally and Duke, probably around my age. In such a tough environment, he managed to change his life through sheer effort. Most importantly, the light he carried not only lit up his own path but also influenced those around him.

"The world I see shouldn't be like this. The world isn't made by someone but seen by someone."

These words, coming from a boy who often encountered misfortune, were so pure, brave, and wise. He seemed like a beam of light sent to the orphanage, sweeping away the filth with his humanity and giving hope and strength to the kids stuck in misfortune.

"God has become a little boy."

I smiled knowingly. That wasn't wrong.

And twenty years later, the boy's words still had an impact on me. Lately, I'd been feeling a bit fatalistic. In reality, how one viewed destiny and the world was not determined by the world itself, but by one's own perspective.

Simple and straightforward truths seemed powerless not because the words lacked strength but because the environment was different.

"Thanks, Lally. Toby's words are really insightful and helpful," I said.

"You're welcome. Toby's just that kind of person. Everyone who meets him likes him," Lally replied.

As Lally spoke, she rummaged through a cabinet and finally found something wrapped in old newspaper. It looked ancient, with the yellowed paper falling apart, vaguely resembling a book.

"This book was given to me by Toby. He used to read it a lot. Later, everyone got a copy. Mine is the original edition, a poetry collection. I flipped through a few pages but couldn't understand it, so I kept it safe."

Lally carefully unwrapped the newspaper, treating it like a treasure. The worn cover was revealed, half of it already torn, with the author's name barely visible.

At that moment, her focus was entirely on the book, not noticing that my body had started trembling uncontrollably. When she unwrapped the newspaper and I saw the cover, my heart stopped, and Lally's words kept echoing in my mind...

No way. It couldn't have been such a coincidence.

All the information from the past few days flooded my mind-courtroom lies, investigating Tammy, Tony, and then Lally and Duke. Their tragic fates and turbulent stories had shocked me over and over.

The one who gave them strength and hope was the boy who was also in the depths of the abyss.

And that boy...

But the name of that book, I knew it all too well.

Toby, the orphanage, and his favorite poetry collection... Could it be him?

No, absolutely not! I must be overreacting and overthinking.

But they all came from the orphanage. Silverlight City had several orphanages and welfare homes. Fate had already sentenced Alan. It wouldn't let me...

An old black-and-white photo quietly slipped out from the book's pages, floating to the ground in a strange arc.

At my moment of desperation, like the scythe of death, it swung a cruel arc.

I squatted down, or rather, I no longer had the strength to stand, facing memories, facing the truth, facing fate. It was like opening Pandora's box, with all the pain flooding in.

It was a photo of a group from an orphanage.

The background was a three-story building, surrounded by high fences and walls, like a prison.

The children's faces were tender, with stiff smiles and hollow eyes. In the black-and-white photo, it was filled with a sense of despair.

But one spot was special. Those children's smiles were sincere, holding hands, shoulders touching. They huddled together as if to tell the world they were the only light. Duke and Lally held hands on the left side. Compared to now, time had washed away their tender faces, at the cost of blood and tears.

Above the two, on the left, were two familiar faces. I had seen, searched for, and talked to them, in the courtroom, in the café, Laura and Frank...

Above the two, on the right, I hadn't seen them in person but had seen photos. Howard had sent them to me. Since I recognized Laura and Frank, I naturally knew the identities of the other two.

They were the two who had never appeared but had spoken on the phone, part of the university group of five: Bob and Mike.

In the middle of the group of five, above Lally and Duke.

That child, of average height, obviously much older than Lally and Duke, with hands on their shoulders, smiling so brightly and warmly.

His eyes and face seemed unchanged from beginning to end, so gentle, conveying strength and hope to everyone.

God became a boy, walking among people.

He wasn't God; he was my husband.

He was Alan.

"Lally, what's this person's name?"

"His name is..." Lally paused, "His name is Toby Nelson."

"Good name, an extraordinary person. Lally, I have something to do, so I'll leave now."

I walked downstairs like a zombie, relying on instinct.

I had never felt so helpless. Everything and everyone seemed shrouded in a layer of fog.

The wind couldn't blow it away, and water couldn't penetrate it. Everyone was lying, hiding. I had no strength to think about anything anymore.

All the events of these days, like thousands of stage lights, focused on Alan.

Alan had always been reluctant to talk about the orphanage. It was a long winter, a hopeless hell.

It was so cold that my forehead felt hot. I forgot where I parked the car, instinctively walking forward. In the distance, a few police officers were walking towards me.

Was it Benjamin?

I fainted.