Chapter 4

I raised my hand and gently covered Leo’s ears, then looked up and said coldly, "Bryan, starting today, I will treat both children in this house equally. But whoever does wrong will apologize."

"Leo is the youngest. He deserves to be loved and protected, not constantly criticized and bullied by all of you."

I turned to Elliot, whose face had gone pale, my tone leaving zero room for argument. "Give the bear back to Leo and apologize to him."

Elliot bit his lip, refusing to move, tears hanging at the corners of his eyes to play the victim.

Bryan, eager to protect his favorite, stepped in directly. "Enough! It’s just a plush toy. Is it really worth backing a child into a corner like this? At Leo’s age, he needs to learn to be generous and share with his brother."

"Generous?" I shot back. "Why should a six-year-old child have to be generous? Why is he the one who always has to yield?"

For the first time in public, I stood up to Bryan, giving him no face whatsoever. "You feel sorry for Elliot because he’s 'sensible,' but who feels sorry for Leo?"

Bryan froze, clearly never having seen me so unyielding and fierce.

Elliot’s sweet act completely crumbled, a flash of darkness crossing his eyes so fast it was almost unnoticeable before he slipped back into his aggrieved look. Slowly, he held the bear out in front of Leo.

"I’m sorry, Leo." His tone carried no real apology, only resentment.

Leo didn't dare take it, his eyes still too fearful to meet anyone’s gaze.

I reached out, took the plush bear myself, carefully smoothed out the crushed edges, and gently placed it in Leo’s arms. "Hold onto it," I whispered softly. "This is yours. No one can take it from you."

Leo slowly looked down at the familiar bear in his lap.

He raised his wet eyes, sneaked a quick look at me, his small lips moving faintly as he squeezed out a tiny whisper: "Mommy..."

That single word made my chest ache with intensity.

In my past life, up until his death, he had never received my firm favoritism.

I bent down and carefully scooped him into my arms. A six-year-old child was so light it broke my heart.

Ignoring Bryan’s livid face and the dark venom in Elliot’s eyes behind me, I patted Leo’s back gently, my voice firm. "Don't be scared. Mommy is here. No one will ever bully you again."

The little boy in my arms finally relaxed a bit, resting his small face softly against my shoulder.

Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Elliot’s hand hanging at his side, his fingers quickly brushing against a bottle of children’s allergy medication in his pocket.

My pupils shrank sharply.

In my past life, Leo suffered from constant unexplained allergies, airway edema, and severe late-night coughing fits. It wasn't his constitution—he was being secretly poisoned year after year.

A second later, Elliot looked up, a cold smile hidden deep in his eyes as he stared straight at the clueless boy in my arms.