Chapter 3
A loud growl suddenly erupted from Sophie's tiny stomach.
Cecily slapped her forehead. "Oh, look at me, running my mouth. I completely forgot my baby hasn't eaten! You wait right here, sweetie. I'm going to make you something delicious!"
A short while later, the delicious aroma of home cooking wafted from the kitchen of Hayes Manor.
Cecily was bringing out the glazed chicken when she almost ran smack into a boy standing by the door. She pulled up short with a yelp, the sauce sloshing dangerously close to ruining his expensive suit.
"Mother, my apologies!"
The teenager in front of her immediately clasped his hands in a formal gesture, and his voice was tight with panic. "It was my recklessness. I entered without announcing myself and disturbed your preparations. Please punish me. I will accept any consequence without complaint!"
He rattled off the speech so fast that Cecily felt like she was listening to a foreign language.
The boy in the private school uniform was about fifteen years old. He looked handsome and well-built, but his melancholic eyes held a soul-crushing sadness that didn't belong on someone so young.
This was William Hayes, her eldest son.
He was so tall.
A lump formed in Cecily's throat. She abruptly set the plate down on the counter and threw her arms around him.
She held him tight, pouring all the missed affection of the last three years into that desperate hug.
William's eyes, usually so dull and distant, widened in shock.
Confusion, fear, and utter bewilderment warred in his gaze. His mind felt like it had just short-circuited.
The mother in his memory was always poised, distant, and rigid, constantly boxing him in with cold rules. An act as improperly intimate as a hug was something that would simply never happen.
George walked in at that exact moment, freezing at the weird sight.
First came surprise, and then a frigid aura instantly enveloped him.
She was trying to hurt William again.
"Cecily, let go of him!" he snarled.
He crossed the room in two long strides and yanked Cecily off their son.
A terrifying rage churned in his deep eyes. He ground out the words from deep in his chest.
"What the hell are you trying to do to him now?"
Cecily's back was still aching, and now her waist flared with pain. She winced, about to snap back at him, but a hesitant voice cut her off.
"Father, it was my fault. I almost made Mother drop the plate. She wasn't hurting me."
William shot an uncertain glance at Cecily, his fists clenching unconsciously.
"She just hugged me," he mumbled.
He swallowed the rest of the sentence, his voice failing under an absurd doubt.
George's brow remained tightly furrowed as he stared at Cecily with suspicion and distrust.
The cold contempt in his gaze was a physical blow, hurting Cecily.
She took a deep breath, pushing down the wave of hurt and frustration. They would believe her eventually if she tried her best to be a good wife and a good mother.
"William," she said gently as she turned to her son with a warm smile. "Go wash up for dinner. I made your favorite glazed meatballs and shrimp with soft scrambled eggs!"
Cecily cooked? She actually set foot in the kitchen?
George was genuinely surprised. For three years, Cecily had acted like stepping into the kitchen was beneath her dignity. What was she playing at now?
Skeptical, George followed them to the dining room.
At the table, Cecily tried to break the ice. "William, did anything fun happen at school today?"
William remained silent.
Cecily blinked, trying again. "Well, have you made any new friends?"
The silence was deafening.
Cecily felt her smile falter.
George gripped his fork tightly. "No talking during meals. Wasn't that one of the house rules you established?"
Cecily nearly choked.
She forgot about that one. The imposter who hijacked her life made the mess, but naturally, Cecily was the one who had to clean it up.
She cleared her throat and declared with forced brightness, "Well, that was then. This is now! I was clearly out of my mind. Starting today, I promise, no more ridiculous rules!"
To change the subject, she quickly picked up a chicken wing and placed it on Sophie's plate.
"Sophie, try it. I made this just for you."
Sophie stared at the chicken, swallowed hard, and took a tiny bite, her eyes darting to Cecily's face to gauge her reaction.
Seeing her mother was still smiling, she finally relaxed and began to eat in earnest.
The savory flavor exploded in her mouth.
It had been so long since she had tasted anything so delicious.
William stared at his sister, whose mouth was now shiny with chicken grease, and blurted out, "Mother, didn't you say Sophie must maintain a simple diet, free of oils and meat, to prevent her from becoming unbecomingly plump?"
Cecily rolled her eyes.
"Being healthy is what's important!" she retorted instantly, placing a few more pieces of steak on Sophie's plate.
"Eat up, sweetie! Eat big bites so that you can grow big and strong!"
George's intense gaze was locked on her face, as if he were observing a strange new species.
After dinner, Cecily told William to start his homework while she took Sophie upstairs.
"Sophie, how about we draw a picture together?" she asked softly, guiding her small daughter to the desk and laying out a fresh sheet of paper.
Her daughter loved to draw, yet all her artwork was dark and depressing.
That had to change.
When Sophie gave a slight nod, Cecily placed the brightest yellow crayon in her hand. Gently holding her small fingers, she guided her to draw a round sun.
"That's Mr. Sun," she murmured. "Now let's add some fluffy white clouds.
"Spring is here, so we need some flowers and grass coming out to enjoy the sunshine.
"This spot is empty. Let's draw a little person here. See? She's wearing a pretty dress and smiling like a flower. Guess who it is? It's our Sophie, right?"
Sophie's long lashes drooped, but her gaze was fixed on the evolving picture.
And then, she wore a small smile.