Solstice in Grandeur

Chapter 2: Year 2 - A Mother's Grief

Haein's Second Year in life

Hong Haein’s second year began with the anticipation of a new addition to the family. Her mother, after months of discomfort and expectation, finally gave birth to twins. For a brief moment, the grand mansion was filled with rare joy. The twins’ cries echoed through the halls, bringing smiles to faces that rarely saw them. Haein’s father was present, his eyes softened, and her mother seemed lighter, as if hope had momentarily lifted the burdens that always seemed to weigh on her.

Haein, barely a toddler, sensed the change in the house’s rhythm. Her nanny, usually attentive to her every need, seemed more distracted. The sounds of hurried footsteps, hushed conversations, and unfamiliar voices filled the halls. Her mother, once occasionally warm and tender, now had eyes only for the tiny newborns cradled in her arms.

One day, as the family settled into this new routine, Haein’s curiosity got the better of her. She had been watching her mother hold the twins with such care, her young mind fascinated by the small, wriggling forms wrapped in soft blankets. She had seen everyone smile at the babies, had felt the shift in attention away from herself. And in her simple, innocent way, she wanted to touch them, hold them like her mother did.

With the adults momentarily preoccupied, Haein found her way into the nursery. The twins lay side by side, asleep in their crib, their tiny chests rising and falling gently. Her small hands reached out, grabbing the edge of the crib and hoisting herself up for a better look. She wanted to be like the grown-ups, to hold the babies as they did.

Without fully understanding, she reached down and tried to lift the smaller twin into her arms. The baby stirred but did not wake. Her hands, clumsy and unsteady, struggled with the weight, and in an instant that would haunt the family forever, the baby slipped from her grasp. Time seemed to slow as the fragile body tumbled, falling headfirst onto the hard floor.

The sound of the baby’s head striking the floor was a sharp, hollow thud, a sound that cut through the quiet like a knife. Haein, in shock, stood frozen as the baby lay still for a moment, then began to cry out in a thin, high-pitched wail that quickly grew weaker, more labored. The nanny, who had been just outside the door, rushed in. Her face went pale as she took in the scene — Haein standing over the fallen child, her small hands still reaching, the baby’s face growing bluer by the second.

She scooped the baby up, calling frantically for help. A doctor was summoned, but the moments stretched painfully long. When he arrived, the baby’s breathing had become faint, ragged gasps for air. The doctor tried to revive the child, but the damage had been done. The baby, unable to sustain its breath, suffocated in the nurse’s arms.

Chaos erupted in the household. Haein’s mother arrived at the scene, her face contorting from confusion to horror as she saw the baby’s lifeless body. Her scream was raw, filled with a pain that seemed to tear the air apart. She rushed to the child, holding it close, her hands trembling as she sobbed, her tears falling on the baby’s still-warm face.

Then her gaze fell on Haein. Her eyes widened in a mix of grief and fury. “What have you done?” she cried out, her voice cracking, her hands still clutching the lost child. She turned to the nanny, demanding answers, but none could be given. The blame, however, was already clear in her eyes — it fell squarely on Haein.

Her mother’s sorrow quickly turned to anger. The look on her face was searing, filled with a hatred that Haein, at such a tender age, could not understand. From that moment on, the distance between mother and daughter widened into a chasm. Her mother, overcome with grief, withdrew from her entirely, her presence replaced by a cold, empty stare whenever their paths crossed.

Haein, too young to comprehend the full scope of what had happened, only felt the shift in her world. Her mother’s once gentle touch was gone, replaced by a harshness that was almost physical. The nanny’s arms became her sanctuary, but they could not shield her from the pain in her mother’s eyes or the hushed conversations that followed wherever she went.

The baby’s death marked the end of innocence in Haein’s world. Her second year was not remembered for any joyous milestones or loving moments, but for the silence that settled in the house — a silence heavy with grief, loss, and something darker that would grow as the years went by.

The child, once a curiosity, now carried the weight of her mother's unspoken accusation. And though Haein could not yet understand it, she had unknowingly become the bearer of a lifelong blame, a shadow that would follow her through every year of her life.