Just then, Henry’s school day ended.
He hadn’t even left the front gate when he spotted Sheila and Timothy waiting for him.
With a grin, Henry waved excitedly at Timothy, who immediately stopped talking to Sheila and turned his attention to his son.
“Dad! Miss Sheila!” Henry called out, dashing over to them.
As they passed by, Mario’s mom and the nurse—who was picking up her own son, Paul—smiled knowingly. “Hey there, Henry! Your parents are here to pick you up?”
“Yes!” Henry replied, practically beaming.
So it was true. Everything Jessica had said was right—Henry really did treat Sheila like his mom outside the house.
A while back, when Sheila was about to leave because of the Lawsons’ pressure, Henry wouldn’t let her go. He’d brought up the upcoming arts-and-crafts competition, saying everyone thought Sheila was his mom, and he’d be embarrassed if people found out his real mom couldn’t speak. It was supposed to be a parent-child event, after all.
Timothy hadn’t stopped him at the time. There was nothing romantic between him and Sheila, and he was sick of his relatives making a fuss about it. Letting Sheila stay solved a problem for him, too. Besides, Jessica’s condition meant Henry was bound to want to save face—what kid wouldn’t? Timothy never imagined things would spiral out of control like this.
Now, he had to put a stop to it before the misunderstanding got any worse.
“You’ve all got it wrong. She’s not my wife,” Timothy said firmly.
Jessica, who had been hovering nearby, looked utterly bewildered and hurt by his words.
Sheila’s eyes widened with surprise—Timothy had never cleared things up so bluntly before.
Henry just stared at his dad in shock.
Mario’s mom, with Mario in tow, and the nurse, with Paul, had both overheard the exchange. Now everyone knew that Sheila wasn’t Henry’s real mom.
“But Henry told us this lady was his mom,” Mario piped up, looking confused.
“That’s right—he says it all the time in class. We didn’t misunderstand,” Paul chimed in earnestly.
The nurse grinned. “Oh, Mr. Lawson, you’re such a kidder. When Henry was sick at the hospital, he called this lady ‘Mom’ the whole time.”
Mario’s mom nodded in agreement. “Exactly! At the craft competition, Henry told me himself that this lady was his mom.”
Timothy remembered hearing that, too. He’d wanted to scold Henry about it, but Vince had teased him until he let it go. He’d thought it was a harmless misunderstanding, never realizing how out of hand it had gotten.
Lately, Timothy had been on edge, thanks to his mother’s situation, and he’d been harder than usual on Henry. Now, Henry looked absolutely petrified, barely daring to look up at his father.
He stole a glance up and saw Timothy’s cold, forbidding expression, then quickly dropped his head again.
“Timothy…” Sheila called after him, worry etched on her face, banging on the car door.
Timothy just told the driver, “Let’s go.”
Inside the car, the tension was thick. Henry’s voice was barely a whisper. “Miss Sheila…” he murmured, terrified.
Sheila rapped on the window again, visibly anxious.
Henry was deeply touched—he knew Sheila was worried about him.
The car sped away.
As soon as the car was out of sight, Sheila’s anxious expression vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating look.
Timothy’s attitude today was all because of Jessica. Henry was Jessica’s son, so of course Timothy would take it out on him. Looked like Henry was in for it tonight.
But when it was over, Sheila would swoop in to comfort Henry—he’d trust her even more after that, rely on her.
If it weren’t for Jessica and her son, Timothy would never have treated Sheila this way. How could she possibly care about the son of her rival?
Henry was terrified of what Timothy might do. Sensing he was in real trouble, he quickly sent a message to Sallie Lawson using his phone watch.
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