When my son fell gravely ill, I discovered the devastating truth that he wasn't my child. Confronted with my questions, Michael frowned. "The baby didn't survive. I was afraid you'd be heartbroken, so I brought Elizabeth's child for you to raise. Elizabeth didn't even complain about not raising her own child, so what are you dissatisfied about?" Elizabeth spoke softly, "I was immature before. I thought a child would hinder my dance career. Thank you for taking care of him all these years. I'm taking my child back now; after all, I am his mother." Michael, as if fearing my disagreement, offered a dismissive compromise. "Of course, if you want a child, I can give you another one."