The boy just wanted to see his mother.
Only when he saw with his own eyes that she had come back could he feel at ease.
"No."
The woman shook her head.
"You don't need to apologize to me."
"I believe you."
"I don't believe their judgment."
"You're my child. Is there anyone who knows their child better than a mother does?"
The woman spoke with certainty.
It was the confidence she had as a mother.
The boy was a little stunned.
But his mother's words, telling him she believed him, gradually filled his heart with a sweet joy.
Mom said she believed him.
Mom didn't believe those people when they said bad things about him...
He felt so happy.
Really happy...
"But..."
The woman's expression grew more subdued.
The joy in the boy's heart faltered.
He had a vague premonition...
Not a very good one...
"I believe you..."
The woman's expression was calm, as if she were stating the most ordinary fact.
"But that doesn't mean everyone else believes you, too."
"That's probably hard for you to understand right now..."
Seeing the confusion on the boy's face, the woman finally gave him a faint smile.
Her smile eased the tension in the boy's nerves a little.
He was already used to how perceptive the woman was about his thoughts.
She was right.
He was confused.
Mom believed him... so why didn't everyone else?
Didn't they believe Mom?
"Do you believe Mom?"
The woman reached out and smoothed down a strand of the child's hair that was sticking up.
"I do."
The boy answered without hesitation.
Of course he believed Mom.
Everything Mom said was right.
That was the blind trust a young child placed in his mother.
The woman's expression