South Hampton continued to thrive and flourish for seven years after Jeanne left.

At the city's airport, Jeanne came out from the arrival gate with a large luggage. There was a six-year-old boy with curly hair beside her.

The boy had black-framed glasses on his fair and cute face and he was holding a storybook in his hand.

She was like a fashion model walking on a runway with that fashionable coat on her. Her wavy hair and fiery red lips elevated her beauty. Wherever she went, heads turned. Increased attention to her style was nothing new to her. She held the boy's hand and walked further.

When she walked past a man, the man froze on the spot and turned around.

The man's attendant turned to where his boss was looking. "Fourth Master, sir, I think she's Jeanne Lawrence."

"She's back?"

"I heard Master Lawrence has fallen ill and she's back to see him for the last time," the attendant said.

"Oh really?" The man, known as Fourth Master, grinned subtly for a moment.

"Is that her... son?" the attendant muttered softly.

Fourth Master glared at his attendant. The attendant reverently looked away and followed his boss away. Meanwhile, Jeanne was walking toward a woman, who seemed to be searching for someone.

"Monica!"

Surprised, Monica turned around to find her best friend, looking great.

"Jeanne! You're finally back! I thought you were going to spend the rest of your life eating pizza and pasta!"

It had been many years since the two met but Monica's quips remained as sharp as ever.

Jeanne switched the topic and asked, "Who are you looking for just now?"

"Edward, Edward Swan. Did you see him? He just walked in your direction."

"I don't know the man," Jeanne said with a lack of interest.

"You don't? But you tried to get into his pants back then!"

It was just a joke when she was young.

you really got into his pants, your father might not have thrown you out

Jeanne cut her friend off by switching

on,

to help Jeanne with the luggage and it was then she

your son?

This is George."

snort..."

stared at her blankly as he took his glasses off. His eyelashes

quickly and

her son was an introvert

look on George. She felt

the next moment, George spoke with his meek

just call me godmother." Monica ruffled the boy's

his mother and his mother

"Godmother."

food to eat and the best

Jeanne's luggage, she held George's hand and strode forward

turned around to his mother with furrowed brows as if he was trying to ask if the

Jeanne sighed.

six years old, George had an IQ of 200, so everyone, to him,

off from the

passenger seat and George quietly sat in the

a little far from

freeway, Monica asked, "Your grandfather told you to come

wants

stepmom's control now. Jenifer, was

Jeanne hummed with a nod. There was a hint of menace behind

an event of great

"I heard."

cautious glance at her friend. "Do you still... You know... think about

"You're overreacting."

If it wasn't for that b*tch Jasmine, you're the one who should be

wasn't that strong in the first place." Jeanne was

right." Monica nodded. "Then,

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