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Chapter 12

A small boy, barely reaching Cynthia's knee, stood there dressed in a child-sized black suit. His neatly parted hair, delicate and adorable features, and doll-like fair skin made him exceptionally handsome. This was Mason! Her son! Over the years, Cynthia often thought about the child she abandoned. She could only catch pitifully scarce glimpses of him through the news or newspapers. But now, he was standing right in front of her, so real it felt like a dream. Could this be a blessing in disguise? Meanwhile, Zachary and Adam were equally shocked. Since Mason's birth, no one had ever heard him utter a single word. Everyone assumed he was congenitally mute. Due to his status, the matter had been kept under strict wraps. And now, he had spoken! So, he wasn't mute! Zachary's dark eyes glinted with an unusual intensity while Adam, overwhelmed with excitement, rushed forward. "Mason, come with me to the medical room for a check-up!" Mason shook his head in refusal, his small hands still clutching Cynthia tightly. He looked up, his dark eyes gazing at her with longing. Cynthia was caught off guard by how endearing her son was. Overcome with emotion, she squatted down and held his face gently, studying every contour. This was her son—the child she had carried and given birth to. When she left, he had been as tiny as a kitten, and now, he had grown so much. Her eyes welled up, and her voice which was tinged with joy trembled as she asked, "Mason, you're so adorable. Too adorable! Do you like me?" Mason nodded without hesitation. Meanwhile, Zachary's expression darkened further when he was ignored entirely. This little brat… His real father was standing right here! Not wanting his son to be entangled with someone like Cynthia, Zachary's lips curled in disdain. "She isn't your mother. She won't be staying. Come here." However, Mason didn't move. Zachary spoke again, his tone sharp, "Come here. Don't make me say it a third time." The second time was already more leniency than a father would normally give. His voice carried a commanding weight. Mason's small face fell as he reluctantly walked toward Zachary. Just as Zachary assumed he was obeying, Mason suddenly hugged his leg and bit down hard. A muffled groan escaped Zachary's lips. "Zach!" "Mason!" Adam and Cynthia turned pale and rushed to help. However, Mason clung to Zachary like a small, fierce animal. He bit down harder and harder, even drawing blood at the corners of his mouth. It was as if he had lost all reason. The situation had spiraled out of control. Zachary's brows furrowed tightly, and the air around him grew dangerously cold. His son had been unwell since childhood. Whenever something upset him, he would fall into these uncontrollable episodes, and no one could console him. In severe cases, he would even self-harm. Doctors had once advised doing everything possible to keep him happy. For this reason, Zachary had indulged his every reasonable demand. It had been six months since the last episode. But now, Mason was triggered—because of Cynthia. "Zach, just agree to his request!" Adam urged anxiously, knowing the consequences. Zachary's sharp gaze swept over Cynthia before landing on his frenzied son. Finally, he said coldly, "I agree. She can stay." At these words, Mason's grip began to loosen, though he still hadn't completely let go. Zachary's piercing gaze turned to Cynthia, and he commanded, "Tell him you'll stay." What? What nonsense was this? Adam quickly explained to Cynthia, "Mason has autism. When he's triggered, it causes episodes. He's still undergoing treatment. If we don't calm him down, it'll undo all the progress we've made and worsen his condition." What! Mason had autism? Cynthia was in disbelief. But seeing Mason's state of distress, she dared not delay. "Mason, be good. Stop biting, and I'll stay." With those words, Mason finally released Zachary. Zachary cast a cold glance at Cynthia and, without another word, carried Mason back to his room. Adam then grabbed the medical kit and quickly followed. Now left alone, Cynthia stood frozen, unable to process what she had just learned. Her son had autism? Was fate playing a cruel joke on her?

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