Chapter 4

Edward sent that video to the family and friends group chat.

The caption read: [Margaret totally lost it after moving out, went off on an innocent friend.]

Less than half an hour later, my phone was blowing up.

My mother-in-law was the first to tear into me.

"Margaret, you think you've grown a backbone now? Edward's been putting a roof over your head and food on your table all these years, and you still have the nerve to ask for a divorce?" she snapped.

I stood outside Helen's noodle shop, watching the soup bubble in the pot.

"Mom, I didn't push her," I said.

"The video caught everything, and you're still trying to deny it! Clara's such a good girl, helping out around the house, and not only are you ungrateful, you even went and laid hands on her," she snapped.

"She's only looking after your son and your grandson," I shot back.

My mother-in-law was momentarily speechless, then her voice turned even sharper.

"Why do you have to be so harsh? A divorced woman like you—don't you care about your reputation at all? How is Daniel supposed to show his face after this?" she snapped.

I shot back, "And what about Edward? He brings another woman home—how's he supposed to show his face?"

I could hear her slam her hand on the table.

"Clara's just Edward's soulmate! You've got such a dirty mind, you twist everything into something filthy," she snapped.

I hung up.

Helen came out with a bowl of noodles.

"Eat up. You'll need your strength if you're going to take on those jerks," Helen said.

I had just picked up my fork when Daniel burst into the shop.

Trailing behind him were two classmates and Clara.

There weren't many customers, but everyone paused mid-bite when they saw the scene.

Daniel slammed his backpack down on the table.

"Mom, why did you hang up on Grandma? Look at the mess you've made at home—is this what you want? Does this make you feel good?" Daniel shouted.

Helen banged the ladle against the rim of the pot.

"Hey, you little brat, who do you think you're yelling at?" Helen snapped.

Clara quickly tried to pull Daniel back.

"Daniel, don't be like this. Your mom's just in a bad mood," Clara said.

Daniel shook off her hand, his eyes locked on me.

"Apologize to Aunt Clara. If you do, I'll just pretend yesterday never happened," he said.

I put down my fork.

"What if I don't apologize?" I asked.

He turned red with anger.

"Then you're not my mom anymore!" he yelled.

Some people in the shop gasped.

Helen yanked off her apron.

"Fine! If you don't want her as your mom, then pay back every dollar she spent on your tuition, your meals, your clothes—every penny since the day you were born," Helen snapped.

Daniel shouted, "That was all Dad's money!"

I looked at him.

"For the first three years your dad worked, his paycheck couldn't even cover the rent. The formula you drank? I paid for it by fixing up old paintings and sewing costumes for people. When you were three and had pneumonia, I didn't sleep for three days straight. And now you're telling me it was all your dad's money?" I said.

Daniel froze for a second, then immediately puffed up, refusing to back down.

"How am I supposed to know if any of that's true? All I remember is you always being at home, cooking," he shot back.

Clara said softly, "Margaret, he's just a kid. Stop guilt-tripping him with the past."

Helen grabbed her phone.

"Keep acting all fake, and I'll hang your picture at the door as a mosquito repellent," Helen snapped.

Clara's face went pale.

One of Daniel's classmates whispered from the back, "Daniel, your mom doesn't seem that bad."

Daniel turned around and shot him a glare.

"What do you know?" he snapped.

That was the first crack.

It was so subtle, Daniel didn't even realize it.

But Clara caught it.

She grabbed her wrist and whispered, "Daniel, let's go. Don't make things worse for your mom."

Daniel immediately reached out to steady her.

"Is your hand still hurting, Aunt Clara? She did this to you," he said.

He shot me a pointed look.

"Just so you know, I had Aunt Clara sign the parent form. Teacher said as long as Dad's cool with it, it's all good," he said.

"What form?" I asked.

"It's the parent consent form for the city showcase in Ostville," he said.

He lifted his chin, looking all smug.

"Didn't you say you didn't want me as your mom anymore? So from now on, whatever I do is none of your business," he said.

I reached out my hand.

"Hand me the consent form," I said.

"Why should I?" he snapped.

"I'm your legal guardian, that's why," I replied.

Daniel looked at me like I was being ridiculous.

"Now you want to be my mom again?" he shot back.

Clara gently stepped in.

"Daniel, just let her see it, so Margaret doesn't think we're keeping secrets from her again," she said softly.

Daniel pulled the paper out of his backpack and dropped it in front of me.

I looked it over, my brow furrowing.

It wasn't just a regular showcase consent form—there was a long-term boarding school contract attached underneath.

The location was Ostville, and the duration was three years.

On the signature line, Clara had written my name.

I looked up.

"Who signed my name?" I asked.

Clara's gentle expression froze.

Daniel cut in before she could answer. "Aunt Clara just signed it for you. It's not like you care about me anyway, so what's the problem?"

Helen slapped the table.

"Faking a signature and you seriously don't see the problem?" she snapped.

Clara pulled herself together fast.

"Margaret, the teacher was rushing us, and Daniel was worried he'd lose his shot. I was just trying to help," she said.

I folded up the agreement and slipped it into my bag.

"I'll get to the bottom of this," I said.

Daniel let out a mocking laugh.

"Who are you even going to ask? The teacher only cares what Dad says," he shot back.

A car pulled up outside.

The middle-aged woman from last night walked in, her gaze fixed on my bag.

"Ms. Lane, we need to leave now," she said.

Daniel scowled, "And you are?"

She didn't answer Daniel, just turned to me. "They're waiting for your go-ahead in Ostville."

Daniel let out a mocking snort.

"Mom, you really can't stop putting on a show, can you?" he said.

Before I got in the car, Helen shoved a bag of hot buns into my arms.

"I'm not gonna ask where you're headed. Just let me know you're alive—even a single punctuation mark will do," Helen said.

The middle-aged woman said, "She can let you know she's safe, but she can't tell you where she is."

Helen shot her a glare.

"You better keep your word," she said.

Halfway through the drive, Edward called.

I put him on speaker.

"Margaret, did you take Daniel's agreement?" he asked.

"There's a forged signature on it," I said.

"Clara meant well," Edward said.

"She signed my name," I shot back.

"Are you seriously going to keep harping on this? Daniel finally has a shot to study in Ostville—are you, as his mom, really going to mess it up for him?" Edward snapped.

The car was dead silent.

The middle-aged woman just stared out the window, keeping her mouth shut.

I shot back, "Is this about me ruining him, or you just wanting to look good in front of everyone?"

Edward's voice turned icy.

"Margaret, don't flatter yourself. Daniel's talent has nothing to do with you," he said.

"Then let him prove himself on his own," I shot back.

"What are you getting at?" Edward asked.

"I'll be there in person," I said.

Edward let out a laugh, half amused, half annoyed.

"What are you even gonna do there? You wouldn't even get what's happening at a calligraphy contest. Don't make a fool of yourself," he said.

I hung up.

The middle-aged woman finally spoke up.

"If you want, we can have someone deal with that forged agreement for you," she said.

"No need," I replied.

I smoothed out the agreement on my lap.

"I want him to see it with his own eyes," I said.