Chapter 32: Every Family Has Its Own Troubles

People’s perception, appreciation, and desire for beauty rank just below their needs for wealth and power.

In some social classes where wealth and power are unattainable, the pursuit of beauty becomes the primary goal.

Lynch’s handsomeness is a form of beauty. When the policeman took a liking to Lynch and sympathized with him over losing the ring he intended to give his girlfriend, things began to change.

Even without these changes, Lynch would have kept things moving forward. He was in a phone booth outside the antique shop, about to call the police to report a fencing operation, when a car with police lights—but no siren—stopped outside the shop.

Two officers got out, one drawing his handgun, clearly on duty.

Lynch felt confused. He hung up hesitantly. After watching the Michael house all morning and part of noon, he wasn’t sure if Little Michael had the ring, but things now seemed more complicated than he expected.

Just as he debated whether to sneak back into Michael’s house to check for the ring, he saw Little Michael being handcuffed and led away by two officers. Lynch breathed a sigh of relief and felt his slightly trembling legs were justified.

He had been following Little Michael’s car on his bike. If it weren’t for the car’s flashy orange base color with red flames, he might have lost it at the last intersection. Luckily, the striking colors made the target easy to spot.

Little Michael never imagined that the gold ring would make him a prisoner, let alone that running far enough to cross into another police district would lead to his capture there.

Each city in the Baylor Federation has a regional police station near City Hall, mainly handling administrative duties. They manage but don’t patrol.

The actual frontline work is done by sub-stations assigned to specific districts, like the Sabin City Main Street or District Sub-stations. These do not cross boundaries or interfere with each other’s work.

While sub-stations operate independently, some information is shared.

Little Michael’s actions backfired. Had he sold the ring at a nearby antique shop, the local sub-station would have handled his arrest, and he might have had a chance to speak with the sheriff he saw that morning, allowing some room for negotiation.

Instead, he crossed multiple districts before being caught. The officers in that district knew nothing about him and were unlikely to engage in any negotiation with a burglary suspect who would only claim innocence until the court presented evidence.

Lynch rode his bike back to the warehouse district, waiting for the police summons—not as a suspect, but to assist the investigation. He would cooperate fully and even work to clear Michael’s name. He was a righteous and kind man who never falsely accused others.

Back at the warehouse, he noticed Vera seemed upset and kindly asked about it.

“You don’t look well,” he said, setting a cup of warm milk on the table beside her. “You might not be used to warm milk, but trust me, it’s good for you.”

Vera thanked him and sipped the milk. In the Baylor Federation and much of the world, people rarely drink warm beverages; even women in labor usually drink cold drinks with ice.

The first sip of warm milk surprised her with its rich flavor and comforting warmth spreading through her body.

“Thank you,” she said, putting down the cup. “I’m fine. Thank you for caring. I just… need to be alone for a while.”

Lynch shrugged and left. They exchanged a look, and Vera’s face revealed a sorrow even she hadn’t fully realized.

Last night, she found her husband drunk again. Recently, he had been coming home drunk every day. Vera understood, as this was a critical time—if Gap received management approval to become a partner in the company, their family’s status would rise.

She sympathized and worried about him drinking so much, knowing it was unhealthy but unable to persuade him. Gap was a dominant man and head of the household; she couldn’t convince him.

Last night, while changing his pajamas as usual, she noticed lipstick marks on his buttocks.

Her heart shattered; she nearly lost her breath.

She never imagined facing this day and refused to naïvely believe, like the child at the police station, that this was just a joke between colleagues.

He had already taken off his pants—it was no joke.

She nervously changed his clothes and wiped away the evidence as if she were at fault. Though she pretended everything was normal, her heart was in turmoil.

She needed calm and distance. She came unusually early today, feeling as if despair had frozen her soul.

She instinctively took another sip of warm milk, letting its heat comfort her body. Her mind was in chaos.

Divorce?

Even if she could leave Gap, he would never allow it. Society was hypocritical—people ignored family realities yet measured success by the appearance of a harmonious family.

From company management to the federal president, all constantly praised family’s value to themselves and society.

Gap was on the rise and would never agree. Even if he did, what about the children?

Doubt is the cancer of trust; once suspicion takes root, all trust collapses. Every time Gap worked late or went out, Vera now saw it as an excuse for infidelity.

She even felt her marriage was a lie.

She was breaking down; it felt like the sky was falling.

The more pessimistic, the worse they imagine things. Vera finished the milk; the warmth faded, and no new heat came.

Her breathing grew sharp.

Each breath forced her to straighten up, as if drowning or suffocating.

Her vision darkened. She wanted to call for help, but instinct told her it was wrong; speaking would drown her in floodwaters.

At her darkest moment, an inexplicable warmth appeared in her arms. The dim world faded away, and she heard someone speaking beside her.