"…Mom."
Anson called out, but Nora didn't respond.
Nora just held Anson tightly, saying nothing, as if pouring all her strength into the hug.
"Mom."
Anson called again, still no response from Nora.
Feeling slightly helpless, Anson couldn't help but admit he wasn't used to hugs. In his previous life, he could barely remember when he had ever hugged someone. Family affection was rarely expressed so directly, which made him feel stiff. The longer the hug lasted, the more awkward it became.
"Mom, I can't breathe. My back, my back."
Finally, after his persistent complaints, Nora released him, gently laying him back on the pillow, though her gaze never left him.
That look made Anson feel a bit uneasy.
Nora took a deep breath. "These past two years, you've become more resistant to hugs. Lucas is like that, but he's been that way since he was a child. Now you're the same. To be honest, it hurts me a little."
Anson's heart skipped a beat. How was he supposed to tell Nora that the soul inside this body had changed? That the person inside wasn't the same one she once knew? He was now someone who struggled to express his true feelings, someone who had armored himself to survive life's hardships. The original soul was long gone.
"But I know, deep down, you're still the same."
She paused and quietly studied Anson.
"Do you truly love acting, my child?"
The sudden change of topic left Anson momentarily stunned. But in front of Nora, his guard was down, and he responded directly, "How did we end up here?"
Just three minutes ago, Nora had rushed in from New Orleans, racing all the way to the hospital. She charged into his room like a tropical storm, and Anson had braced himself for a barrage of scolding. Yet, she didn't say a word. She just hugged him tightly, and now the conversation had shifted entirely.
This wasn't the scene Anson had imagined.
Nora gave a bitter smile. "I just want you to be safe. I hope this doesn't happen again. Seeing you lying here..." She trailed off.
Though Nora didn't shed a tear, nor did her eyes redden, the deep breaths between her words revealed the turmoil beneath her calm exterior.
Feeling a bit guilty, Anson softly murmured, "Mom..."
Nora collected herself. "But we can't lock you up at home, right? No matter what job you do, even if you're just working in an office, accidents can happen. That's life. We can't control our fears, but at least we can control how we face them."
"So, I want you to be healthy, but I want you to be happy even more."
"Do you love acting? Does it make you happy?"
Nora quietly watched him, offering no further explanation, but Anson's eyes suddenly welled up—
He knew how much inner struggle and agony those words had cost her. He realized that someone in this world genuinely cared for his happiness, purely for his own sake.
Anson felt a bit overwhelmed.
All along, he had kept a distance. He lived by the principle of enjoying his second chance at life, focusing only on himself. Yet, deep down, he avoided forming connections with others, fearing he'd be pulled into the emotional highs and lows of life again.
But how should one define their life?
Some say it's fame, others wealth, or accomplishments. Then, there are those who believe it's the bonds between people—those memories of family, love, and friendship. These are not cold numbers or trophies but vivid, living moments.
Anson barely held himself together. "As ironic as it may sound, given my current situation, yes, I love acting. I'm very happy."
His small joke made Nora smile. "Good. Then your mom supports you."
This was what it felt like to have someone unconditionally support you. The happiness felt like cotton candy, filling his chest, warm and sweet.
Anson's lips curved into a smile. "Maybe one day, you all can join me at a movie premiere and see me on the big screen."
Nora's expression turned serious. "Lucas said he couldn't understand it."
Anson's eyes widened in disbelief. "Mom? Lucas said that? And you didn't correct him?"
Nora shrugged lightly. "I'm a fair mother. I won't argue with Lucas until I form my own opinion."
Anson looked up at the ceiling. "No way, I need to supervise Lucas myself next time."
Somewhere, Lucas sneezed.
After their small joke, Anson turned to Nora again. "Mom, there should be a Sean Graham outside. Could you let him in? Lucas has been so controlling, refusing to let anyone visit except for a brief moment with the director. I need to see Sean."
Nora frowned slightly. "Who is he? Is he important?"
Anson replied, "He's the wire-work instructor. It's just that—" Before he could finish, he saw Nora's expression change. He quickly explained, "That's exactly why I need to see him. He's more devastated than anyone. He didn't want this to happen, and it might even leave a psychological scar on him, changing his career."
Nora wasn't convinced. "Don't play the martyr. Don't pity the culprit. Anson, he should suffer. If he doesn't, I'll make sure he does."
Anson admitted, Nora and Lucas were right, but still, "Believe me, I'm not trying to forgive or save him. I'm not Saint Mary. I just want… to find out the truth. Who's truly responsible for this?"
"What if someone used him to cover their tracks? If we blame the wrong person, the real culprit might get away. I can't accept that."
Nora's face turned serious. "So, it wasn't just his mistake?"
Without waiting for Anson's answer, her expression grew stern. "I'll ask Lucas about this."
After all, Anson needed rest, and Nora didn't want him to overthink things.
Glancing at Anson one more time, Nora said, "Three minutes."
Anson's eyes widened. "Only three minutes?"
Nora replied, "If not, then forget it. You need to rest now."
Anson sighed. "Fine. Three minutes."
Nora nodded in satisfaction, opened the door, and stepped out. After scanning the room quickly, she immediately spotted Sean Graham among the unfamiliar faces.
His sunken eyes, pale face, and clenched hands—so tightly entwined his knuckles were white. His lips were cracked and dry, as though he hadn't had water in days, and they were flecked with dead skin, revealing glimpses of raw flesh. His unfocused eyes were filled with confusion and torment, his guilt gnawing at his very soul.
He was convinced the accident was entirely his fault.
Yet Nora still couldn't bring herself to pity him. After all, it was Anson lying in that hospital bed. If anything had gone wrong… Nora couldn't bear to think of it. She closed her eyes.