Part 2My Generous Support, My Starving Son

Realizing this, I didn't immediately expose Stephen. Instead, I asked calmly, "Where's Sienna? Anthony is in the hospital, and I've called her more than a dozen times, but she hasn't answered."

"She's on a business trip to Swayton," Stephen replied quickly. "She's been busy with work. You know that. I'll take care of Anthony. Don't keep bothering her and interfering with her work."

I remained silent.

Before I called Stephen, my wife Sienna Shenton had already replied to me with a short text. "I'm in a meeting. My dad is taking care of Anthony. He'll be fine."

Even after learning that her son was in the hospital, she didn't ask how serious his condition was, nor did she mention wanting to visit. It was as though her son being in the hospital was nothing more than a trivial matter.

How had I never noticed before that she could be so indifferent toward Anthony?

"Malachi, are you still abroad?" Stephen asked tentatively.

I answered, "I'm at the hospital."

"What?" Stephen's voice suddenly changed as he asked, "You're back?"

There was no hint of surprise in his voice. Instead, he sounded almost panicked.

Before I could respond, he abruptly hung up.

Less than an hour later, the hospital room door was pushed open, and Stephen strode in. He walked up to the bed and looked down at Anthony.

He frowned as he chided, "You brat, why are you so weak? You fainted over nothing. I told you to eat an extra egg this morning, but you wouldn't listen. Is the food at school not to your liking?"

Seeing this, I couldn't help but frown. Anthony was still resting, and Stephen's voice was so loud that it was bound to wake him.

Sure enough, he slowly opened his eyes. But the moment he saw who was in front of him, his expression shifted, and he instinctively cowered under the covers.

Stephen paused, and he glanced at me diffidently. Then, he straightened up, cleared his throat, and lectured Anthony sternly, "Anthony, did you not eat the breakfast I made for you this morning? Is that why you fainted from hunger? Boys can't be so delicate!"

After he finished speaking, Anthony looked down and frowned tightly.

"He has been becoming more and more difficult," Stephen said, frowning at me. "I make him plenty of good food, but he refuses to eat it. Ask him what's wrong, and he won't say a word. I'm not getting any younger, but I'm always taking care of him, afraid he'll get hurt. And yet, this still happened."

At that, he raised his voice, sounding completely indignant. "Malachi, you don't think I haven't been taking good care of him, do you?"

I stared at him for a few seconds before shaking my head. "Of course not."

Stephen visibly relaxed and immediately started blaming the school, the teacher, and even the hospital. Yet, he never blamed himself.

On the way out of the hospital, he kept checking up on Anthony, but he remained silent the entire time.

As soon as we got home, Stephen went straight into the kitchen to make some broth. The refrigerator was packed with seafood, fresh fruits, and vegetables. There was even a half-eaten cake on the dining table.

Everything seemed normal. In fact, one could say their living conditions were quite comfortable.

Stephen brought over a bowl of chicken broth and patiently coaxed Anthony to drink it. "Hey, I've cooled it down for you. It's not hot."

If the hospital report hadn't still been in my bag, I might have wondered if I was just imagining things.

That night, as I lay beside Anthony, I gently asked him, "Anthony, tell me what you usually eat at home. Has your grandpa ever hit you?"

His body visibly stiffened at my question.

I gently patted him through his blanket and soothed him. "Don't be afraid. I'm here. I'll protect you."

But the next second, Stephen opened the door, carrying a glass of warm milk. "Malachi, you must be tired after such a long flight. Get some rest."

He put the milk on the bedside table and looked over at Anthony.

"Anthony, be a good boy and don't bother your dad," he said with a smile.

However, Anthony was trembling under the covers.