Chapter Text
“Hi, kids! What are you all up to?” Mark exclaimed as he saw the four children on the ground, engrossed in playing with castles and knights.
Louis looked up and replied, “I am the king of this castle and Harry is the queen. You’re our minister, Uncle Mark!”
Harry nodded in agreement. “Lou and I have already gotten married, and Niall and Lottie helped us!”
Mark watched fondly as the four continued playing, but a question from one of the children almost broke his resolve not to cry in front of them.
“Where’s Dad, Mark?”
Suddenly, Anne burst through the doors, pulling Mark to the side.
“He’s dying, and there is really nothing we can do to help him unless they do the surgery right away!” Anne cried. “Please, this will be the last time I ask you for money. Just help him, please!” she pleaded.
Mark pondered as he looked towards the children playing on the floor.
“I can’t help you anymore, Anne! I am not wasting a single penny on a drunk. This fortune belongs to Louis, you know that. I have already used up my savings for Des, but I can’t help you any longer!”
Mark's words hung heavily in the air, the weight of his decision pressing down on both him and Anne. She slumped against the wall, tears streaming down her face, each sob a stab to Mark's heart.
The children's laughter echoed through the room, a stark contrast to the despairing scene unfolding just a few feet away. Mark felt a pang of guilt, his eyes drifting to the children, who were blissfully unaware of the harsh realities lurking just beyond their make-believe world.
"Please, Mark," Anne's voice broke through his thoughts, weak and desperate. "He's still their father. He's still my husband. He deserves a chance."
Mark clenched his jaw, the internal battle raging within him. The responsible guardian in him knew he had to protect Louis's inheritance, but the compassionate father-in-law couldn't ignore Anne's plea for help.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "Anne, I've already done everything I can. The money I have left is for the kids, for their future. I can't jeopardize that."
Anne's shoulders shook with silent sobs, and Mark felt a deep ache in his chest. He wished there was another way, a solution that didn't involve choosing between his duty to the children and his desire to help Anne.
Anne's eyes hardened and she replied coldly, “Fine. I’ll just take my children with me. I’ll pay for the surgery myself, but I’m not your daughter anymore, Mark. I’ll see myself out.”
Anne grabbed Harry’s and Niall’s arms and dragged them out of the house. Mark tried to stop her but to no avail. Louis kept calling Harry’s name, hoping to call him back. Both Niall and Harry struggled to get out of Anne’s grip, but she was much stronger than them.
Mark looked at the tear-stricken face of Louis and hoped he was making the right decision. He forlornly stood at the gate, running the scenarios through his head. He picked up his phone and dialed the numbers. He had waited a few seconds for it to ring before a voice broke through his thoughts. “Manchester Hospital speaking, what’s your emergency?”
Oh yes, he had to answer. “Yes, I am a friend of Desmond Styles. I’d like to pay for his surgery now, thank you.” But the answer he got sent chills down his spine. “It’s already paid for, sir.” Mark hung up the phone as he realized he had made a terrible mistake.
——————
“Where’s Dad?” Niall asked Anne as she fed both kids bread. “He’s—uh—not coming back, baby. But don’t worry, you have me, right?” Harry and Niall agreed and hugged their mother tightly. Suddenly, they noticed a boy staring at them through the window. Anne got up, and the two kids followed closely behind her.
“Hi,” Anne whispered. “Who are you?”
The dark-haired boy shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Do you have a name?” The boy shook his head. “I don’t.”
“Uh, okay then. Where are your parents?” Anne questioned.
The boy shrugged. “I don’t know,” he replied softly.
“Well, okay then. Want to eat something inside?” She asked.
The boy's eyes lit up, and he eagerly nodded. “Yes, please!”
Harry rushed into the house and got him the bread they were eating. He handed it to the boy, who gobbled down every last crumb.
“Can we call him Zain, Mum? Please!” Harry asked.
His mum looked over at the kid and sighed. Could they afford another child? She agreed.
Harry and Niall jumped up and down. “You’re going to be my best friend, Zain!”