The photo from yesterday was still on the desk. Of the two people who had originally been smiling, only one remained now. The more Michael Bolton looked at it, the more a wave of fear welled up inside.

Everyone had forgotten about Steven Harris's existence. Could it be... could it really be that he was the one who was wrong?

Could it be... that he had really gone mad?

Michael Bolton tried hard not to let his thoughts go in that direction, but the ideas in his mind just kept drifting that way, unable to stop.

Suddenly, the door was knocked on, and Michael Bolton's mother's voice came from outside: "Little Michael, have a bowl of mung bean soup."

Michael Bolton sighed softly in his heart. Although he had just eaten dinner and really had no appetite, he didn't want his mother to worry, so he went to open the door. He saw his mother standing at the door with a bowl of mung bean soup, smiling at him.

"I know you like it cold, so I kept it in the fridge." Michael Bolton's mother brought the mung bean soup in and set it on the desk. She saw the photo: "Still looking at that? What's so interesting about it? That silly face is so ugly."

"Mm... nothing much. By the way, when is Jason Bolton coming home? His summer vacation should be starting soon, right?" Michael Bolton was feeling upset and didn't want to talk about the photo anymore, so he casually changed the subject.

Michael Bolton's mother turned her head, looking at Michael Bolton in confusion: "Little Michael, what are you talking about? Who is Jason Bolton?"

Michael Bolton felt as if he'd been struck hard on the head, seeing stars, and stared wide-eyed at his mother: "Mom, what... what are you saying! Jason Bolton is your son, my younger brother!"

"..." Michael Bolton's mother took a deep breath. Seeing the look of shock on her son's face, her hand trembled and some mung bean soup spilled onto the desk.

"Mom, don't scare me..." Michael Bolton forced a smile, trying to reassure himself a little. "You... you can't have forgotten how many sons you have, right!"

"Little Michael, you..." Michael Bolton's mother couldn't help but reach out and touch Michael Bolton's forehead, her face full of worry. But Michael Bolton suddenly jerked his head back, dodging her hand, his face growing more and more frightened: "Mom, tell me, you had two sons, right! One is me, and the other is Jason Bolton!"

Michael Bolton's mother's face stiffened: "Little Michael, what's wrong with you! You're your father and my only child! You've always been the only child in the family, when did you ever have a brother?"

"You're... you're joking with me, right!" Michael Bolton stared at her: "Mom, Jason Bolton is my brother!"

Chapter 6: Who Is Disappearing?

Fear appeared on Michael Bolton's mother's face. She hurriedly carried the mung bean soup out of Michael Bolton's room. After some quiet muttering outside, she returned with Michael Bolton's father. One sat on the chair by the desk, the other sat on the bed beside Michael Bolton.

Michael Bolton's father sat in the chair, lit a cigarette, and looked serious: "Little Michael, did you just tell your mom that you have a brother?"

"...Dad, Mom, what's wrong with you! It's one thing if you don't remember Steven Harris, but Jason Bolton is my brother, your own son!"

Michael Bolton almost desperately gripped the bedsheet beneath him, staring at his father: "He's five years younger than me, born on May 15, 1996! He's now a sophomore majoring in sociology at Haidong University! He likes eating meatballs and crucian carp, hates century eggs and fried gluten, and just like me, loves cold drinks. He's 1.75 meters tall, often plays basketball, and likes listening to Jay Chou... Have you... have you forgotten all of this?"

Michael Bolton's parents exchanged glances, both showing looks of shock. After a long while, Michael Bolton's father finally exhaled a puff of smoke, his face stern, and said word by word: "Little Michael... you are our only child. You've never had a brother. Have you... not been feeling well lately because of work?"

"That's impossible! That's impossible!" Michael Bolton shouted as if he had gone mad.

Michael Bolton's mother nervously hugged her son, but Michael Bolton had already jumped up, forgetting that the upper bunk of the double bed was right above him, and with a "bang" he hit his head.

Michael Bolton clutched his head and let out a painful groan. Michael Bolton's mother, distressed, hurried to check his head, but saw Michael Bolton suddenly lift his head, a flash of light in his eyes, and he pushed his mother away.

The sharp pain in his head just now had suddenly given Michael Bolton a flash of inspiration.

"You... you keep saying I’m your only son, right?" Michael Bolton rubbed his head as he pointed at the bed behind him, looking at his parents in front of him. "Then how do you explain this bed!"

His parents looked at each other, not understanding what their son was saying.

"This is a double bed! A bunk bed! You bought it when Jason Bolton was six! Since then, Jason Bolton has always slept in this room with me. I sleep on the lower bunk, he sleeps on the upper bunk! If I never had a brother, then why is there a bunk bed at home! Explain it to me! Explain it!"

Michael Bolton's parents' faces changed instantly. They looked at each other, and doubt began to grow in their hearts.