Will couldn't speak; he fainted. A cold aura instantly surrounded Byron, as if he were reliving Will's abandonment in the hospital. Fortunately, Damian quickly summoned Dr. Foster. Byron suppressed his rage, his expression dark as he carried Will to his room.

Harold examined Will thoroughly, then respectfully told Byron, "Mr. McDaniel, William may have eaten something that disagreed with him."

Byron demanded, "Why would he faint from bad food?"

Harold explained, "William is frail and has a sensitive stomach. He usually eats light, healthy food. Something cold or greasy would cause severe gastrointestinal distress. He's also slightly anemic, which contributed to the fainting spell. He'll wake up soon."

Byron frowned, then instructed Damian, "Ask Archer where Will went today."

"Yes, Mr. McDaniel," Damian replied before leaving.

Byron turned to Harold. "Will fainted. Will this have lasting consequences?"

"Don't worry," Harold reassured him. "After years of recovery, Mr. William's health is much better. A careful diet and timely medicinal foods will prevent any lasting effects." Byron nodded, his gaze fixed on the unconscious Will. He pursed his lips. "Dr. Foster, is a full recovery possible?" he asked quietly.

Harold hesitated. "I'm sorry, but I can only maintain his current condition." He added silently, It might have been possible with the Chatterly family's miracle doctor, but omitted this since Byron disliked him.

After the IV drip, Harold left. Soon, Archer called. Upon learning Will had spent the afternoon with Maeve and eaten at McDonald's, the coldness in Byron's eyes intensified. Four years ago, Maeve had abandoned Will. He wondered about her motives now.

"Got it," Byron said coldly, hanging up. He turned to find Will sitting up, looking confused. "Dad, what's wrong?"

"You ate something bad," Byron said, sitting beside him. "Does your stomach hurt?"

Will shook his head. "Just a little. Don't worry, Dad."

Byron gently touched Will's head. "Did you go to McDonald's with someone today?"

"Yeah."

"Stay away from her. Don't get close."

Will tilted his head. "Why? Do you know her?"

Byron's lips twitched at the mention of Maeve. His cold face held unquestionable authority. "No reason. Ignore her if she approaches you." Will's lashes drooped. After a pause, he murmured, "The food at McDonald's was delicious, Dad."

"You were in pain, and you still think it's delicious?"

"Yes," Will's voice was soft and hoarse. "I want to eat there with you."

Byron frowned. "The doctor said no junk food. It's not good for your health." He chose to reason with Will rather than forbid it outright. Will, unusually intelligent for a four-year-old, understood this approach.

After a moment, Will asked, "Dad, what's my mother like?"

Byron's eyes instantly turned cold. "Why are you asking about your mother? Who said something to you?" Will had only asked once before, at age two. He wondered if Maeve had spoken to him.

"The woman who took me to McDonald's saved me," Will explained. "And… if I had a mother, would she be like that woman, protecting me?" Maeve had piqued his curiosity about the mother he never knew, a mother he knew had abandoned him. He'd never asked to spare his father's feelings.

Byron's heart ached at Will's curious, disappointed question. He realized he'd neglected Will's need for motherly love.

"Will, do you want a mother?" Byron asked.

Will shook his head. "Dad, I'm just curious. I don't want a mother." He felt that a loving mother wouldn't have disappeared.

Byron stroked Will's head, his gaze complex. He could provide motherly love, but Maeve didn't deserve to be acknowledged as Will's mother.

On Friday, Maeve rushed to her studio after dropping Theo at kindergarten. A private investigator called from Belldol.

"Ms. Reese, I'm afraid this is difficult," the detective said.

Maeve frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The hospital is closed, poor management. The surveillance footage was erased due to malfunction. We can't trace anything from four years ago. The doctors and nurses can't remember. Also, the records of cremations show no entry for the day you gave birth."

Maeve's heart sank. "Is God punishing me for abandoning my child?" She thanked the detective, broke down, and hung up.

After composing herself, Maeve went to Belldol. The hospital was demolished, replaced by wasteland. She stood where the delivery room had been, a bouquet of daisies in hand, gazing into the void. Her heart ached. "I wish you well in your next life," she whispered to the wind.