Chapter 5 Father's Wound

Maya had grown into one of the top students at one of the most prestigious high schools in the city of Laos. She had left Neverland a few years before Mary's death and moved in with her foster parents in the suburbs. Since then, she had made a name for herself by spearheading campaigns against drug abuse and alcohol dependence.

The story of her biological parents' death had always been clouded in controversy. Speculations suggested that the couple had overdosed before their fatal car accident. The forensic report later confirmed they were both under the influence of drugs at the time of the crash.

Ever since Maya discovered the truth, her war on drug abuse became personal. Drugs had taken away the two most important people in her life. Her mission was now crystal clear: ensure that perpetrators and peddlers of hard drugs were exposed and punished.

Sam was stunned to see Maya again. For the first time in years, he smiled-genuinely. Her presence shook him, and her beauty left him momentarily speechless. How could he still have a crush on her after all these years?

He quickly introduced her to Troy. The two exchanged polite greetings before Troy, flashing a mischievous grin, excused himself. As he left, he gestured at Sam playfully, silently mouthing his approval: Go for it, bro.

Sam and Maya walked down the street together.

"What brings you to Laos?" Sam asked.

Maya smiled. "I've been living here for about five years now," she said. "I came to this area today to run an errand for my foster parents."

Sam was relieved to see her smiling. It was a sharp contrast to the gloomy expression she often wore back in Neverland. Still, even her smile couldn't mask her radiant beauty.

"What about you, Sam?" she asked. "Why are you in Laos? And how's Mary?"

The question hit like a dagger. Sam's smile faded. His eyes went vacant. A silence settled between them before he spoke.

"Mary died two years ago," he said quietly. "We moved here to live with my uncle. I'm actually on my way to pick up my sister from kindergarten. It's not far-do you want to meet her?"

Maya felt a wave of sadness for Sam. But her interest was piqued by the mention of Anna. The day's still young, she thought. Why not?

She nodded. Then, after a pause, she asked, "How are you really holding up, Sam?"

"I'm fine," he replied a little too quickly.

Maya narrowed her eyes. She knew that look-she had worn it herself countless times. She understood what it meant to bury pain, to smile through trauma. That defensive, guarded tone. She knew it too well.

There was a heavy silence.

Maya studied Sam's face. His expression had hardened, as if he were upset by the question.

Then she said softly, "Sam, I get it. You're trying to be strong. Society teaches men to hide their pain, to suffer in silence. But it doesn't make sense. You're still human. You bleed, you feel."

She paused, looking straight at him. "It's okay to cry. It's okay to ask for help. I can see it, you know-just in the few minutes we've spent together. You're carrying so much. Maybe it's pain from your childhood, maybe something else. But it's weighing on you."

Sam remained silent. Her words made him feel exposed, like she could see through him.

"I know," Maya continued, "because I've been there. True strength-true masculinity-is being able to express your pain and face it. And if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here. Okay?"

Sam didn't say a word the rest of the walk. Maya's words had unraveled something inside him-truths he hadn't admitted to himself.

Soon, they arrived at Anna's school. Maya smiled as Anna ran out with her bright little teeth showing. She scooped her up into her arms and laughed.

"She looks so much like Mary," Maya said gently.

They walked back together, and when they arrived at the house, Maya stopped at the gate. She waved goodbye, promising to visit soon.

As the day gave way to evening and the curtains of dusk began to fall, Sam noticed a figure lying on the living room couch.

It was Uncle John.

He was home unusually early-and clearly drunk.

John struggled to sit up, his clothes wrinkled, his body slumped in exhaustion. He reeked of alcohol. Without saying a word, he stumbled toward the bathroom and began retching violently, the sounds echoing through the neighborhood.

It was the first time Sam had ever seen his uncle in this state-drunk and broken.

When John returned, he mumbled incoherently before finally saying, "Listen, boy... something bad happened today. And I didn't think I was brave enough to tell you sober."

He paused, then sighed.

"I've been sacked, Sam. I got fired."

Sam stood frozen, like a statue. He didn't know what to say or how to feel. It was as if the world had tilted, once again, beneath his feet.