As the sun set, Yor walked home with unease in her heart.
Yor moved gently, afraid of making Richie's injuries worse.
A crystal-clear teardrop still clung to the corner of her eye, and Richie heard Yor blaming herself over and over in her mind:
I'm really not a good mother. I actually squeezed my child so hard that I broke his ribs. I'm not a good wife, either. I can't help shoulder my husband's burdens.
Today, I nearly got arrested and even dragged the whole family into it. I really...
As Yor thought, tears began streaming down her face before she realized it.
Mother, this really isn't your fault. Father planned all of this. He only grew suspicious of you after learning who Yuri was. You don't need to blame yourself.
Richie protested the injustice to Yor in his heart. He lay limply against her shoulder and tried to comfort his mother:
"Mother, life is unpredictable. Sometimes one thing just gets wrapped up in another. Everything has a cause. It's not your fault."
Hearing Richie's weak voice, Yor was startled at first, then overjoyed.
With the utmost care, Yor turned Richie over from where he was slumped against her shoulder and cradled him in her arms.
"Richie, you're awake. Does it still hurt? I'm... I'm sorry..."
As Yor spoke, she couldn't stop her tears from falling again.
Even the slightest movement sent terrible pain through Richie's entire body, but he still managed to pull his pain-blanched lips into a reasonably presentable smile:
"Mother, it's not your fault. Even the doctor said I'm fine. I just need to lie in bed for a couple of days."
Struggling to bear the pain, Richie reached up and brushed the tears from Yor's cheeks:
"Don't cry, Mother. I'm really fine."
Yor wanted so badly