At the parent-child workshop, I received a note from my son, titled "My Honest Words for Mom." 【Mom, can you please stop clinging to Dad?】 【If you hadn't saved him, Dad would never have married you.】 【Dad has two Go world championships, but you only have one national title.】 【You trapped Dad by having me. Only bad people do that.】 【My friends all say their moms are the most beautiful people in the world, but I think Sienna is.】 【Please divorce Dad and let Sienna be my new mom.】 【Thank you.】 1 In the car, Jordy sat with his head bowed, fiddling with his fingers. Suddenly, the kid's smartwatch on his wrist buzzed to life. Dwight's voice, tight with barely suppressed rage, crackled through the tiny speaker. "Jordy! What on earth did you write at the workshop today?" "Do you have any idea what you've done? Another kid took a picture of your note, and now it's spreading through every parent group chat! How could you humiliate your mother like that?" Jordy's lower lip trembled, and then he burst into tears. "I didn't make it up! I heard you say it, Daddy! I heard you!" "That night you drank too much, you were crying when you said it. I remember every word!" On the other end of the line, Dwight’s furious tirade choked to a halt. A few seconds of dead air passed before his voice returned, laced with a new, frantic edge. "Your mother… is she there with you? Did she hear any of that?" Jordy scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. "She's not my mom! I don't like her!" he wailed. "She's driving right next to me! I wanted her to hear it!" Even through the phone, I could picture the color draining from Dwight's face. He fumbled for an explanation, his words stiff and hollow. "Claire, it was just the alcohol talking. You can't take it seriously. Jordy is so focused on Go, his emotional intelligence is… underdeveloped. He gets it from me. I'm so sorry." "It's your birthday today," he added. "I'll definitely be home tonight." A flicker of surprise went through me. In ten years of marriage, he'd never once celebrated my birthday. How convenient. We could settle everything at once. My voice was flat, devoid of emotion. "Good. When you get back, we can sign the divorce papers." My words were like a switch. Jordy's sobs instantly vanished, replaced by a triumphant cheer. "Yay! That's great!" "Sienna was right! She said you'd agree to anything I asked!" The line went silent. After a long moment, Dwight’s voice came back, strained. "We'll talk when I get home." I ended the call. Outside, a massive billboard flashed past the window. It featured Dwight's profile—his brow furrowed in concentration, a white Go stone held between his fingers. 【Two-Time World Go Champion Aims for a Third Title】 The sun glinted off the sign, a blinding flare of light that made me wince. A wave of dizziness washed over me. It felt like a lifetime ago, but ten years ago, I was the one everyone expected to win it all. 2 Dwight slid a few documents across the table towards me, the paper making a soft, crisp sound. "Here's the divorce agreement and the asset division. I've looked them over. Everything seems to be in order." He spoke with the detached air of someone reviewing a boring, predictable game. "The assets are split fifty-fifty. It's fair. And you can see Jordy whenever you want." I flipped open the folder. He was right. It was fair. Until my eyes landed on the date at the bottom of the page. A month ago. He’d had this drawn up a month ago. I set his papers aside and pulled a different folder from my own bag. "Let's sign this one instead." My voice was as calm as his, if not calmer. "You take seventy percent, I'll take thirty. But on one condition." "I completely renounce my custody rights to Jordy. I won't pay any child support, and I think it's best if we have as little contact as possible from now on." Dwight’s hand, already holding the pen, paused for a fraction of a second before descending. The scratch of the nib on paper was sharp, decisive as a blade. "Done. Your turn." The moment my signature was on the page, I saw the tension leave his shoulders. He visibly relaxed. His voice softened, adopting a tone of gentle magnanimity. "Thank you, Claire. Thank you for being so gracious, for not making this ugly." "After all, if you decided to make a scene, it could have been very… difficult for me." He trailed off, but we both knew what he meant. I gathered my copy of the agreement and stood up. As I did, my gaze fell on the elaborate cake sitting on the dining table. The first birthday cake I’d received in ten years of marriage. Jordy seemed to notice where I was looking and immediately threw his arms around the box protectively. "This is for Sienna! It's her birthday today, too! I'm giving it to her!" Dwight’s brow furrowed in annoyance. "Jordy, stop talking nonsense!" he hissed. "That's for your mother." "No, it's for Sienna!" Jordy insisted, his little neck stiff with defiance. "I already called her! She's on her way over right now!" As if on cue, the soft beep of the electronic lock sounded from the front door. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was. In this house, only one person besides the three of us could walk in without knocking. Sienna breezed in as if she owned the place. Jordy immediately scrambled into her arms. "Mommy! You're here! Let's have cake!" He tilted his head back, his voice ringing out, loud and clear, "Sienna, you're going to be my mommy now!" Not a flicker of surprise crossed Sienna’s face. She knelt gracefully, gently tapping Jordy's nose. "Store-bought cake is so unhealthy, sweetie. I'll make you a special handmade one." I couldn't be bothered to watch this performance. I grabbed my bag and walked toward the door. The motion-activated light in the hallway flickered on as I stepped out. Frantic footsteps echoed behind me. "Claire! Wait!" Sienna called out, her voice catching. I stopped but didn't turn back. "Claire," she began, her voice trembling as if she were the world's greatest victim, "I don't think I did anything wrong." "In love, the one who isn't loved is the third wheel." "You were smart to just bow out gracefully. It's better for everyone." I felt no anger, not even a ripple of emotion. "You haven't changed a bit, Sienna." "In Go, you could only ever study my old game records." "In life, you can only pick up what I've thrown away." "It's a good thing Master Alistair expelled you from the academy when he did. You would have been a complete disgrace to his name." Without waiting to see the furious blush creeping up her neck, I turned and walked away. The elevator doors slid shut, reflecting my perfectly composed face. It was over. And that was for the best. 3 On my first day of freedom, I got a call. It was from the director of the Stonegate Go Academy, one of the most prestigious in the country. They had tried to recruit me as a coach years ago, but I’d turned them down, citing my need to focus on Jordy’s training. Now, they were extending the offer again. This time, I didn't hesitate. When I walked into the main hall, a crowd was gathered around one of the large demonstration boards. In the center, a young girl was studying a complex endgame problem, her brow furrowed in concentration. The coaches surrounding her were murmuring amongst themselves. "Lily's talent is just off the charts. To get this far in the 'Art of War' problem is incredible." "What do you expect? She's Lucas Thorne's niece. That kind of intuition for the game is in her blood." "But it looks like she's stuck on this final variation…" I overheard their hushed conversation. Lucas Thorne? The only "Lucas" in the Go world revered enough to be called a god was the man who held nine world championship titles. The girl looked up, her expression puzzled. "Coach Miller, if Black doesn't sacrifice here and plays a wedge instead, after White executes the 'under-the-stones' tesuji, is Black's group really dead? I feel like there might be a sliver of a chance…" The coaches exchanged glances, each offering a textbook explanation, but none seemed to hit the mark. The girl’s eyes remained clouded with confusion. One of them caught sight of me out of the corner of his eye and his face lit up. "Claire! Perfect timing! Come take a look at this!" The board was set up with the infamous "Art of War" problem. It had been solved by a team of grandmasters over a decade ago, but for a child, it was profoundly difficult. I studied the position for only a few seconds before picking up a white stone. "Stop thinking about killing everything," I said, my voice steady. "Force Black to connect, and solidify your own eye shape first. To save his group, he'll be forced to reduce his own liberties. Then go back and look at the 'under-the-stones' position. The entire situation will have changed. This isn't a calculation problem; it's a question of sequence and feel." Lily's eyes widened in a flash of understanding. "Oh! I get it! Secure my own position before attacking! This placement here isn't just a probe, it's a way of building potential! Thank you, Miss!" She looked at me with a newfound sense of wonder. "Miss, your way of thinking is just like my uncle's!" Coach Miller chuckled beside her. "Well, your uncle and Coach Vance studied under the same master. They were senior and junior at the academy." Lily's mouth formed a perfect "O." "You're the senior he's always talking about? The one he said was even more brilliant than him?" I was taken aback, waving my hand dismissively. "I'm hardly a genius." "But he said the genius senior had a tiny mole right here," she insisted, pointing to the corner of her eye, "like a tiny red Go stone! And your name is Claire! It has to be you!" I subconsciously touched the minuscule mole by my eye, a mark I usually forgot was even there. I never imagined Lucas would remember such a detail. "Claire, you should be Lily's coach," the other instructors chimed in. "Her talent is immense, and most of us can't keep up with her thought process. You're a certified professional eight-dan, the highest-ranked player here. You're the perfect fit." Lily looked up at me, her eyes wide and pleading. I nodded. "Alright." That evening, as I was walking Lily out after class, I saw him. A tall, slender figure was leaning against a car by the academy's entrance, engrossed in a book of endgame problems. "Uncle Lucas!" Lily shouted with glee. Lucas scooped her up in a hug, but his eyes found mine over her shoulder. Our gazes met. The air grew thick with an awkward silence. He was the first to speak. "I thought you'd be spending the rest of your life with pots and pans. I never thought I'd see you in an academy again." I couldn't find a response. The path I'd chosen had led me to this humiliating end. It was shameful. "You're divorced?" he asked, his tone casual. "I saw Sienna's post." I looked down, my voice barely a whisper. "There's still a twenty-day cooling-off period." Maybe I was imagining it. But I could have sworn I heard him mutter a curse under his breath. I quickly dismissed the thought. Lucas Thorne was famously refined, a perfect gentleman. He wouldn't swear. "Well, Lily's safe with you now. I should get going." I turned to leave, but his voice stopped me again. "Claire. There's this game I've been stuck on. I feel like I've hit a dead end. Could you take a look for me?" My eyes shot open, and I spun around in disbelief. "Are you talking to me?" "Who else would I call Senior?" A nine-time world champion was asking me, an eight-dan, to solve a problem he couldn't crack? I hesitated. "I haven't played seriously in a long time." "And… my head isn't what it used to be." That day, after I'd pushed Dwight out of the way of the car, the impact had saved his life but scrambled my brain. The intuition, that genius-level feel for the game, had vanished overnight. I couldn't even solve the endgame problems I had created myself. But a slow smile spread across Lucas's face. "Master Alistair always said you were the only one whose thinking could break any mold." "If you don't come, you'll definitely regret it." I swallowed hard. The "Go fanatic" in me was stirring, that old obsession that made it impossible to walk away from a worthy challenge. After a long pause, I heard my own voice, thrumming with excitement. "Let's go." 4 Lucas's home was a masterpiece of minimalist design. He went straight to his study to set up the board. I settled onto the couch. Lily snuggled up next to me, suddenly whispering, "You know… Uncle Lucas isn't my real dad." I nodded. "I know." It was a well-known story in the Go community, though no one dared speak of it openly. After Lily’s parents died in a tragic accident, her uncle, Lucas, had taken her in and raised her as his own. She sighed like a world-weary old woman. "Good. As long as you know, I feel better." "I'm glad I haven't held him back." Her mature act made me curious. "Held him back from what?" Lily gave me a look loaded with meaning but refused to elaborate. Just then, the study door opened. Lucas emerged. "It's ready, Senior. Please." On the board in his study lay an endgame of breathtaking complexity. Black and white stones were locked in a brutal, intricate struggle, the relationships between liberties and eyes so delicate it defied anything I had ever seen. For a moment, I was transported back ten years, the blood singing in my veins. I was completely absorbed, my fingertips hovering over the board, unconsciously tracing patterns in the air, searching for the one critical move—the tesuji—that could unravel the entire knot. Suddenly, my phone rang, shattering the silence. It was Dwight. "During the cooling-off period, you can withdraw the divorce petition at any time." "I wouldn't object." 5 Was that it? I was speechless for a second, then sputtered, "You called me just to recite a legal statute?" For some reason, the other end of the line went quiet. After a long pause, his voice came back, strained. "It's been ten days, Claire. Haven't you cooled off enough?" His cryptic words left me completely baffled. "The law specifies thirty days. I can't just skip the next twenty. What are you trying to say?" Dwight’s voice suddenly grew sharp with frustration. "Can't you read between the lines?" It was always like this. Vague hints, expecting me to decipher his hidden meanings. My patience snapped. "Is there anything else? If not, I'm hanging up. I'm busy." "Jordy's sick," he blurted out, his tone suddenly urgent. "He has a fever, and he keeps calling for his mom. Can you please come home and see him?" I froze. For the past few years, whenever Jordy got sick, he only ever called for Sienna. Why would he be calling for his mom now? But then, through the phone, I heard Jordy’s weak, whimpering voice clearly: "Mommy… Mommy…" Followed by: "Sienna! I want Sienna! Mommy…" I see. So that was it. They were scared. Scared that something would happen during this twenty-day waiting period, scared that I might change my mind. So they were using a sick child as an excuse to test me, to lure me back and ensure the divorce went through without a hitch. A cold smile touched my lips, and my voice was perfectly calm. "You two can relax." "When Claire Vance gives her word, she doesn't go back on it. I will absolutely not be withdrawing the divorce petition. You won't have to wait a single day longer than necessary." Just then, Lucas’s gentle voice came from outside the study door. "Senior, I made you some chamomile tea. Is it a good time to come in?"
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