Life Erased, the Mafia Queen Returns Chapter 05

Life Erased, the Mafia Queen Returns Chapter 05

I didn’t quite remember how things ended. I only knew that in 

the end, I had been too angry to say goodbye. 

Because Vincent and I had parted on bad terms, I wasn’t even 

sure if he had been speaking casually or if he really meant 

what he said. 

I hesitated, but I didn’t take a cab back. 

Maybe it was the cost–round–trip fares nearly equaled a 

day’s wages. Maybe it was that six–year absence of motherly care gnawing at me. Either way, I didn’t want to break my 

promise to Jasper. 

School let out at four–thirty. 

Most kids at this kindergarten came from wealthy families. As 

I stood among the flow of luxury cars, I saw a Bentley stop in 

front of Jasper. 

I didn’t approach. 

I turned and walked slowly back the way I had come, suddenly finding my earlier worries absurd. 

What was I thinking? How could the De Santis Family really allow the heir to just walk away with me? 

The Bentley drove off, stirring up thick dust as it passed. 

I couldn’t help remembering that small, round face. I probably wouldn’t see him again. 

Yet something made me glance back. 

On the now–visible sidewalk across the street, Jasper stood alone at the kindergarten gate. Round eyes locked on mine. 

His eyes lit up, and he was about to run toward me, but a teacher raised a hand to stop him. 

He frowned, slightly angry, whispering something to the 

teacher. 

Fearful of him running into traffic, I took a few steps forward 

without realizing it. 

The teacher noticed me and finally let Jasper go. 

He ran, gasping, eyes glittering like dark beads. 

As he got closer, he slowed, pretending not to care. His expression was shy, yet joyful. 

“… You, you really came to pick me up?” 

His soft little hand reached for my fingers, testing, and when I 

didn’t pull away, he pressed them tighter, glancing at me secretly, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

I gave a gentle, uncertain “Yes.” 

“You’re not going with him?” 

Mention Vincent, and Jasper’s face instantly puffed up like a tiny gas tank ready to explode. 

“I don’t want him! And he’s not here to pick me up!” 

“He said carrying me to and from school is too tiring, that I’d annoy you by always needing you, and that I shouldn’t disturb 

your work.” 

Jasper’s expression was so determined, so self–assured, almost proud as he said, 

“I’m not as dumb as him!” 

“I told the teacher I wanted to transfer today, so I won’t take 

up so much of your time going to school!” 

He lifted his chin, eyes urging me to praise him. I couldn’t help 

but brush my hand over his soft, round head. 

The way home was long; we got stuck in traffic, shopped for groceries. 

As night fell, I walked with him, hand in hand. 

Then he muttered as if remembering something: 

“Oh, tomorrow the driver will pick me up. Dad said I should bring my change of clothes home.” 

“But I’m still coming back to sleep! You can’t forget me!” 

Tomorrow was Friday. I held the grocery bag a little tighter, paused, and said softly, 

“Okay.” 

Kids forget so easily. One weekend of pampering, and they’d forget me. 

Every meeting, I treated as if it were the last. That way, in the long stretches of waiting, I wouldn’t feel the emptiness. 

By ten–thirty Friday night, Jasper still hadn’t returned. 

I calmly folded the pajamas he had left by the bed that 

morning and packed the extra dishes in the fridge. 

I turned off the lights, stared into the darkness for a while, then closed my eyes. 

When I woke, rain pelted against the window, relentless. 

After a night of nightmares, my head throbbed in waves. A few unread messages blinked on my phone. 

Before leaving yesterday, Jasper had clung to my leg, begging 

for my number. 

The first voice message had come at midnight, hesitant, slightly defensive, almost waving his little arms in 

explanation. 

[I didn’t mean to be late!] 

[I had my clothes ready at six! But Dad was sick, and he didn’t have the strength to take me.] 

[He’s useless!] 

The second came half an hour later, careful, a hint of crying in his voice. 

[Mom, are you mad at me?] 

[Are you going to leave me again?] 

[I don’t want to stay here either, but… I have no choice. I don’t have the driver’s number—] 

The last one arrived ten minutes ago. He had sent a photo of some medicine instructions, asking what it said and if it was safe for kids. 

I called him back immediately. 

The line picked up in a second. On the other end came sniffles and shaky breaths. 

“Mom.” 

The phone was on Do Not Disturb. I could hardly imagine how 

anxious he had been all night. 

I couldn’t scare him. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my 

voice calm, gripping the phone tightly. 

“Are you running a fever? Can you tell Mom where it hurts?” 

He sneezed into the receiver and didn’t answer. His little 

voice, nasal and cautious, whispered instead, 

“Mom, can you come pick me up?”