Forged My Marriage, Stole My Baby—Now I’m the Judge You Kneel To - Chapter 36: Chapter 36

Thorne's hand was big and warm, with long fingers that were gripping Rowena's tightly, like she might disappear again.
Something about the gesture triggered a memory for Rowena.
She suddenly realized their first meeting hadn't been at some mixer.
It was in an alley on a rainy night.
Fresh out of college, Rowena had been pulling another all-nighter at the design studio, clutching a stack of portfolio pieces. To get home faster, she'd decided to cut through the back streets.
The alley was narrow and dark, and just as she started walking faster, she heard this quiet groan.
A young guy was curled up against the wall, soaking wet, with blood trickling from a gash on his forehead.
When he looked up at her, his dark eyes were full of wariness, like a wounded animal.
Any normal person would've kept walking.
But Rowena found herself crouching down and holding out her umbrella. "Hey, you okay?"
The guy didn't answer, just stared at her like he was trying to figure out if she was dangerous.
"Sir,can you stand?" she tried again. "I live just up ahead."
Whether it was blood loss or something else, he finally grabbed her hand.
Rowena's apartment was cozy and warm.
The guy's tense body relaxed a little.
While she was cleaning his wounds, she noticed an old scar below his collarbone, shaped like a crescent moon.
"I'm Rowena," she said while bandaging him up. "What's your name?"
The guy pressed his lips together and stayed quiet.
"Can't talk?" She tilted her head. "Can you write?"
Still nothing.
Rowena wasn't bothered. She just kept chattering"You can't get this wet, so you should wear some of my dad's old clothes... Oh, my parents died, so it's just me here..."
She didn't notice the slight shift in his expression when she mentioned that.
Next morning, Rowena woke up to the smell of pancake.
In the kitchen, the silent stranger was awkwardly flipping a spatula, and there was warm milk and toast already set out on the table.
"Gosh!Are you good at cooking?" She bounced over with excited.
Without a word, he quickly stepped back two feet, like he was scared of touching her.
For the next few weeks, he turned into her personal housekeeper.
Every morning there was breakfast ready to go.
Dirty clothes would disappear and show up clean in her closet.
Even the flower she'd killed got secretly replaced with a healthy one that stretched toward the sunlight.
Before, Rowena used to come home from work and talk to her empty apartment.
"My client said my designs were inspired today!"
"The cute cat at the corner store had kittens."
"God, I'm craving lobster so bad..."
She didn't care that nobody answered back. She just wanted to share.
She wasn't broke or anything, just wanted to stay busy so she could ignore the fact that she was totally alone.
Until one night, thunder woke her up and she found him on the balcony closing the windows.
"Loud." He suddenly spoke, his voice rough like he'd been gargling gravel.
Rowena froze.
"Too loud." He forced out two more words, pointing at the storm outside, then at his ears.
She suddenly got it.
He wasn't mute, just hadn't talked in forever, or... didn't know how to talk to people.
"What's your name?" She wrapped a blanket around herself and sat up, eyes bright with curiosity.
He was quiet for so long she thought he'd gone back to not answering.
"Thorne..." he finally managed to get out. "Lincoln."
Once she had a name, Rowena really started treating him like family.
She taught him how to use iphone, took him grocery shopping, even signed him up for adult conversation classes.
Thorne learned fast, but he was still a man of few words, mostly just listening quietly while she rambled.
Until one weekend when Rowena fell asleep on the couch and woke up with a blanket over her. Thorne was sitting by the window reading.
The sunset cast this golden glow on his profile, his lashes throwing delicate shadows under his eyes.
She suddenly realized this "little brother" she'd picked up had somehow grown into this sharp-featured man.
"Thorne," she asked softly, "what did you do before?"
The page-turning stopped.
"Forgot it?" She pulled the blanket around herself and sat next to him. "Or you just want keep this secret?"
Thorne closed the book and suddenly reached out to pat her head—something she always did to him.
"Someday," his voice was quiet, "I'll tell you."
Rowena thought things would just keep going like this peacefully.
But a month later, on a totally ordinary morning, Rowena found the apartment empty.
All of Thorne's stuff was gone, not even a note left behind. She searched every street in the neighborhood, even filed a police report, but they told her no such person existed.
That night, she sat hugging her knees by the window where he used to read.
Tears fell silently...