10
Ding Wanjun did not give up but instead came every day with vegetables and fruits to apologize to my son and me.
I didn't open the door for her, so she left the things at the doorstep and left. Without batting an eye, I shared these with the neighbors.
She also bought new stationery and toys for my son, but he pushed them away:
"Auntie, you should go take care of Uncle's daughter. I really like the old backpack dad sewed for me."
With that, he lovingly touched the patched-up backpack and skipped off to school.
Ding Wanjun watched the son's back, and couldn't help but think of those three years when I mourned for her, while everyone told my son his mother was dead, yet he never changed the way he called her and affectionately called her mom every day, with admiration that couldn't be hidden in his eyes.
But she, to keep the secret of her fake death, tirelessly corrected his address for her.