Chapter 453: The Son Who Returned
byThe front door had been open for several seconds before he managed to breathe. His adoptive mother stood there, staring at him, disbelief clouding her eyes as they slowly filled with tears. She pressed a hand to her chest and stepped back, then reached toward him as if afraid he might vanish.
“Is it really you, my son?” Her voice wavered, already breaking. She looked like she couldn’t trust her own sight.
“It’s really me, Mom. I came home. I came back to my family.” His own voice threatened to crack, emotion rising too fast for him to steady.
Clara lunged forward, pulling him into a fierce embrace. Luke didn’t react. No perception field, no heightened agility, no stat in the world could help him here. He simply let himself be held.
“My Luke,” she wept. “You came back to me.”
Her grip was shockingly strong, stronger than he ever imagined she had in her. Maybe it was because he’d let his guard drop completely, but the way she clung to him felt like she was afraid he’d slip through her arms if she loosened even a little. She kissed the top of his head, sobbing so hard her words blurred into nothing. He wanted to hug her back, but she held him too tightly for him to move.
“I missed you so much, my son,” she whispered, squeezing even harder. “Every day, every night, I never stopped thinking about you.”
“I… I missed you too, Mom. All of you.”
Luke realized tears were running down his face. He’d kept them locked inside for so long that now they fell freely, like a river surging over a cliff.
Clara’s hands began to roam gently over him, checking him like she expected to find wounds.
“It’s really you, isn’t it?” She pulled back enough to look him in the eyes. “Please tell me I’m not dreaming.”
“I’m real,” he managed.
Her smile trembled. She cupped his face, brushed his cheek with her thumb, then kissed his forehead before dragging him into another desperate embrace. Tears slid down her chin and fell onto him.
“Where have you been, Luke?” she asked softly.
He started to answer.
“No… no, you don’t have to.” She wrapped her arms around him again, then met his eyes with sudden intensity. “Please, my son. Promise me you won’t leave me.”
Even through her tears, her gaze was steady.
“I won’t leave you, Mom. I promise.”
“It was my fault, wasn’t it?” Her tears gathered again, spilling faster. “I’m sorry, Luke. I wasn’t a good mother.”
“Y-you were a good mother,” he said, trying to calm her. “I was the one who… who wasn’t a good son.”
“I should have tried harder. I know I should have.” Her breath hitched. “When I found your letter in your room the day you disappeared… the guilt nearly killed me. I realized then that you can feel dead even while you’re still alive.”
Each self-accusation twisted in him, tightening like a knot. But he finally managed to hug her back.
“Don’t leave me again, my boy. I only stayed in this world because I kept waiting for you. I always waited. And I’ll always be here for you.”
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He didn’t know whether to find comfort in that promise or fear the weight behind her words, the quiet implication of what might have happened if she hadn’t kept waiting.
“M-mom…?” a small voice murmured behind her.
Clara and Luke turned toward the hallway. A little girl stood there, hair a messy curtain of dark strands, rubbing one eye with the back of her hand. She wore green pajamas and looked like she’d just woken up.
“Lillian,” Clara whispered, staring at her. “Y-your brother… he came back to us.”
The moment the girl saw Luke, she froze. Her whole body went rigid, like she’d turned to stone. She didn’t seem to believe what she was seeing; she even rubbed her eyes again, harder this time.




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