Soon, the rumble of a car engine drifted in from outside.
Jessica emerged from the bathroom, having just brushed her teeth.
Henry was standing in her room, his small face scrunched up in a look of reproach.
She glanced at Henry with indifference, then walked over to the sitting area, poured herself a glass of milk, and
opened her laptop to read the script Mr. Smith had sent her.
She acted as though Henry wasn't even there.
Henry couldn't believe it.
He'd call the way to his mom's room-and she was treating him like thin air!
Fuming, he marched over and slammed the laptop shut.
"Mom, why are you ignoring me?"
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Only then did Jessica look up, meeting Henry's furious eyes.
Why should she pay attention to him? He had already made it clear he didn't want her as his mother.
Henry demanded, "Why did you embarrassat the craft competition? I'm your son! Did you really wantto
lose face in front of everyone?"
"Why can't you be good tolike Miss Sheila? You weren't like this before— what's gotten into you lately? Why
are you so unreasonable?"
"And another thing-after all these years married to Dad, withbeing as old as
I am, isn't it embarrassing to finally have a wedding now?"
He blurted out all his pent-up frustration in a single breath.
Jessica no longer cared about anything related to Timothy; after all, she and Timothy were now just two separate
people. Once the marriage ended, they could have easily becstrangers.
But Henry was different.
He was the child she'd carried for nine months, her own flesh and blood.
The bond between mother and son was permanent, unbreakable, no matter what happened between her and
Timothy. Even if they severed ties, that blood connection would never disappear.
Jessica lifted her hand in disappointment. "If you hadn't tried to deceive people, how would you have lost face? A
person of integrity, who truly understands gratitude, is admired and respected by others. Tell me, are you that
kind of person?"
Henry was left speechless by her question.
His cheeks puffed in anger, eyes rimmed with red. But at last, he couldn't hold it in anymore and shouted, "It's
all because you're a mute! If you weren't mute, | wouldn't have let Miss Sheila pretend to be my mom. Have you
ever thought about how | feel?"
Smack-
Jessica's palm struck Henry's cheek, her gesture furious and resolute. "A loyal dog never despises a poor home,
and a son never scorns his mother. You can make a craft about gratitude, but you're ashamed because | can't
speak? What right do you have to win any prize, or care about your reputation? You'd rather have a fake mom
and win shollow praise—is that really what you want?"
Henry clutched his stinging cheek, even angrier than before, still convinced he wasn't in the wrong.
"You're just jealous of Miss Sheila, that's why you're saying this! I'm never talking to you again—I hate you!"
Crying, Henry turned and ran out of the room without looking back.
"Young master, where are you going?" Mabel, the housekeeper, hurried after him, catching up at the front door
just in time.
"It's dark out, you can't just run around by yourself. Cback inside."
"Let go ofletgo!"
Henry struggled, and Mabel, afraid of hurting him, reluctantly released her grip.
He pulled out his smartwatch and dialed Timothy. When his father didn't answer, he called Sallie Lawson instead.
As soon as the call connected, he burst into sobs. "Aunt Sallie, Mom hit me..."