Dylan and I waited in the car in front of the factory where Mom works. My eyes scanned the workers coming in and out of the factory, searching for any sign of her. I began to feel anxious. Nearly an hour passed at the factory, but there was no sign of Mom.
“Relax, Hanna. We'll find her,” Dylan reassured me, understanding my anxiety. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“Do you think this is going to work?” I suddenly asked. Honestly, I had asked myself this question many times and questioned whether what I was doing was right. I was afraid to think about the possibilities that might happen, especially in the future, but I also didn't want to let time pass by without doing anything. My feelings were torn.
Dylan squeezed my hand.
“Trust yourself, Hanna. You did the right thing. Believe in yourself just like I believe in you. Like I said, I'm always on your side,” Dylan comforted me.
A smile tugged at my lips. I nodded slowly. As usual, Dylan's words always made me feel warm and calm. Dylan and I exchanged a long gaze before Dylan suddenly rolled his eyes upwards and stuck out his tongue like a zombie.
“What's that?” I burst out laughing. Dylan chuckled, revealing his perfectly aligned white teeth. I could feel my face turning red because of Dylan. Surely the image of Dylan's zombie-like face would stick in my mind for a long time.
“So satisfying hearing you laugh like that,” Dylan said softly, flashing his usual sweet smile. In the remaining laughter, I looked at Dylan's face for a long time. I felt conflicted. Until now, I still hadn't told Dylan about the agreement I made with James. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to see his smile again.
“What's that look, huh? Why? Wanna kiss me? Here,” Dylan teased, puckering his lips. I knew he was teasing me. Without waiting long, I leaned in and kissed his lips briefly, causing Dylan to freeze. Dylan's surprised expression made me laugh. For a moment, my eyes caught sight of my mother. It seemed like she had finished work.
“You...”
“Um, I'm going now. See you soon,” I threw a mischievous smile at Dylan before getting out of the car.
“Miss Morrison?”
Mom's  footsteps stopped. She turned to look at me, her red eyes and pale face catching my attention. Was Mom crying?
“Yes?” She looked at me without blinking.
“Um, can... can we talk for a minute?” I stuttered. I don't know why I suddenly felt nervous facing my mother. All the sentences I had prepared since yesterday disappeared when I met my mother's eyes.
“Sure. Can we talk at the café in front?” Mom pointed to the café right in front of the factory. I nodded in agree as I followed my her steps. Her face looked tired. Why? Because of work or stress?
Mom sat at the table and I took sit in front of her. She just ordered a hot coffee while I ordered my favorite iced cappuccino.
“What we want to talk about? ” Mom asked softly. Her voice was low, and her head was bowed. She seemed to be holding back overwhelming emotions. I was a hundred percent sure that she was facing some problems. I tried to recall if she had ever mentioned any past events before she married dad. But nothing at all.
“Miss?”
I was startled. 
“Um...”
Just as I was about to speak, the drinks we ordered finally arrived. I took a deep breath. Mom sipped her hot coffee. I took out a name card and handed it to my mother.
“Actually, miss, I'm Bella Henderson from Hatter Foundation. We help the community financially by providing capital assistance to start businesses. We believe everyone has opportunities in their lives, so this offer is specifically for those who truly want to change their lives through business. No repayments are required, so miss don't need to worry. If you're interested...”
“Business? Sounds good. I'm interested in pastries, and I've thought about opening my own bakery before...” Mom smiled faintly.
My forehead furrowed. My mother was interested in pastries? I had never known this before. Usually, whenever I asked my mother about her dreams, she would say she didn't have any. She also never made any bread or cakes because usually, we just bought them from the store. If Mom really had dreams, why did she stop just like that?
“That's... good, miss. Then for registration...”
“I'm sorry, but I have to decline this offer,” Mom interrupted, leaving me stunned.
“But... why? Didn't you say you were interested in opening a bakery? Opportunities like this don't come often, miss. I assure you this business can change your life one hundred percent,” I persuaded, not willing to give up.
“What's the point of money if I lose my daughter? Thanks for the offer, miss, but no thanks. I'm leaving,” Mom said as she took out some dollar bills and walked away.
I froze there. Lose a daughter? Wait, I suddenly remembered. Mom had told me several times that she had tried many times to take me from my biological father but failed. Oh my god, how could I forget? Without wasting any time, I stood up and ran after her.
“Miss, wait!” I called out breathlessly. Luckily, Mom turned around.
“Wait... Wait...” I gasped for breath.
“What else? Our conversation is over,” Mom said coldly.
“I... I can help you.”
“Help what? I already said I'm not interested.”
“Your daughter. I can help you, no, I mean... I want to help you.”
I sit by the big window, watching the raindrops fall. Each droplet feels like a melancholic melody tapping against the glass, mirroring the rhythm of my restless heart. My thoughts are filled with my mom, reminding me of the tears she wiped away when she told me about her daughters.
“I want my kids back. I don't want anything except them. Please... help me...” Mom's desperate plea echoes through my mind, filling my heart with rage toward him. I am determined. I won't run away anymore. I will confront him and make him pay for what he did to Mom. I will never forgive him.
“Hey, are you okay?” Dylan asks, sitting casually across from me.
“I'm fine,” I answer with a fleeting smile before shifting my gaze back to the window. I steal a glance at Dylan, and it seems like he, too, is absorbed in watching the rain.
“You know what, meeting Mom at this time and situation feels a bit weird to me. The Mom that I know in the future is kind of stiff, lacks expression, and she never shows us her feelings. This was before she met one guy, and since then, everything changed. She became a normal person again. Probably that's why I close my eyes, agreeing to everything...”
“You mean...”
I nod.
“That's true. In harsh words, we called it as a cheater. And at the same time, my dad keeps disappointing me. I didn't care about him, actually.  He wasn't even my real father. Coming to this place makes me realize my mistake. The one I should hate is not him but...”
“Your biological father.”
I nod.
“After meeting my mom, I learned something that I never knew before,” I sigh slowly.
“What?”
“I have a sister. An older sister. The strange thing is that Mom never mentioned her. Why? I thought I knew my mom well, but the fact is I know nothing about her... ”
“Maybe you're right. But whatever it is, she must have her reasons or...” Dylan's words trail off. I see Dylan swallow nervously.
“Or what?”
“I don't want to say this, but maybe... she didn't exist anymore in the future. Your older sister, I mean...”
I fall silent. Maybe. But never mind. I have the upper hand. I must use the opportunity I have wisely. If my sister really doesn't exist anymore in the future, I must prevent that from happening.
“Don't worry. We got this. Everything will be fine,” Dylan reassures me, holding my hand.
I nod.
“Speaking about the future, why didn't you ask me anything? I don't know, like, what we have in the future or...”
Dylan laughs.
“Why? Why are you laughing?”
“Nothing. Just... you look cute asking me about that,” Dylan grins.
“Seriously? I'm serious right now, Dylan. Tell me. Why didn't you ask me anything about the future?”
“I'm not interested in the future except you,” Dylan answers, with a sweet smile.
I give him a wide smile upon hearing that.
“But, you know what, honestly my real face is so ugly. I've black skin and pimples here and there. My face looks like an old woman. I'm short and fat. Trust me. You will hate it,” I tease him deliberately.
“Oh, really?” Dylan chuckles.
“Aha, for sure you will spit at me, and you surely can't stand my look.”
“That's not true. I never care about appearance, honestly. But, if you ask me, probably I'll spit at you,” Dylan slowly leans closer to me.
“What? Why?” I laugh.
“Why? Are you asking me why? Of course, that's... because I love you and... For sure I'll spit at you like this,” Dylan smiles before he leans in and kisses me.