Once the two of them had eaten their fill, Clara Grant picked up her phone to make a call. She didn't know Cherie's mom's name, but she did have her phone number.
She had botched the job. What was supposed to be delivered hadn't been, so naturally, it had to be returned to its owner. But she wasn't just going to return him. She also had to persuade Cherie's mother that even if she wanted to pursue her own happiness, she couldn't just abandon her own flesh and blood.
'Besides, his biological father is a total scumbag. Would Cherie really be happy and well-cared for with him?'
However, when she dialed the number she had been given, a recorded message played: "The number you have dialed is not in service. Please check the number and try again."
'Not in service?' Clara Grant looked astonished. Unwilling to give up, she tried dialing a few more times, but the result was the same: the number was not in service.
She checked the eleven digits again and again. 'It's correct, I didn't dial it wrong. And I'm positive I didn't write it down wrong back then, because I even double-checked it with her.'
'Could it be... that Cherie's mom gave me the wrong number on purpose? Was she afraid of exactly this situation—that Seth Quinn would refuse to take his son, and I'd have to return him to her?'
The moment she realized this possibility, Clara Grant's expression was a mixture of shock and panic. 'What am I supposed to do now? Don't tell me Cherie is just... stuck with me from now on?'
'An unmarried college student like me, raising a child? If word of this got out, the rumors would be awful.'
'Even if I didn't care what other people thought, how would I support him? I can barely manage to support myself as it is.'
'And even setting all that aside, I don't know the first thing about raising a child! Besides, I'm still in school. I don't have time to take care of a kid!'
"Cherie... you know your mom's cell phone number, don't you?"
After a long moment, Clara Grant finally snapped out of it, turning to ask Cherie.
Cherie had already taken in her reaction. Even if he hadn't, he knew the call wouldn't go through.
Seeing the look on her face, he actually felt pretty sorry for her. After all, suddenly getting saddled with a "burden" wasn't a pleasant experience for anyone.
His mother's instructions echoed in his mind. Cherie immediately pursed his lips and quickly shook his head.
"You don't know? How could you not know? How can you possibly not know?" 'He's such a smart little kid; how could he not know his own mother's phone number?'
"Well, you must remember your mother's name, right?"
To her surprise, the only answer she got was another shake of his head.
Clara Grant was getting frantic. She came close to grabbing his little shoulders and shaking him. 'He's so smart, how could he not even remember his own mother's name?'
"Cherie, please think. Think really hard. Only if you remember your mom's name or phone number can I return you to her. Only then can you be reunited with your mom."
But Cherie just kept his lips pressed tightly together and shook his head. 'I can't say. I can't say, no matter what!'
Clara Grant felt her frustration deflate. When she saw the timid look in his eyes, she realized she might have scared him and her heart softened.
"Well, where did you live before?" she asked, spreading her hands in a hopeless gesture. She didn't expect much from this question either.
"The U.S.A." This time, however, Cherie answered immediately.
But the answer only made Clara Grant feel even more hopeless.
'The U.S.A? That's halfway across the world from China! If his mother has already gone back to the U.S.A, how could I ever find her?'
Just as Clara Grant was lost in her worries, her phone suddenly rang. She jumped, snatching it up to look at the screen, but it wasn't the number she had been hoping for.
She sighed softly and answered the call. "Sarah."
A crisp, cheerful voice came over the line. "Clara, are you still not done with that delivery?"
"It's done..." she replied, her voice trailing off helplessly.
"What's wrong?" Sarah immediately picked up on her tone and asked with concern.
Instead of answering, Clara Grant asked, "Where are you?"
"I'm at my apartment."
"Okay, I'll head over in a bit. We can talk when I get there."
"Okay."