Chapter 288

The other kids were already busy, their little hands hard at work.

Henry, however, sat perfectly still, not making a move.

He was deep in thought, torn by a single question: Whose likeness should he cut out? Sheila's or Jessica's?

He'd always pretended in public that Sheila was his mother, and his father had never objected. But now, suddenly, his father had forbidden it.

If only his mother hadn't shown up today, none of this would be a problem. He could have just made his paper silhouette look like Sheila and avoided all this trouble.

But now his mother was here, and worse, she was the head judge. If he made his mother's silhouette look like Sheila, she'd definitely give him a low score.

Henry was the best at paper cutting in his whole class, and everyone expected him to win a prize at the competition. If he didn't, it would be humiliating.

But if he chose to make his mother's likeness, as soon as she opened her mouth -well, she couldn't speak, and everyone would laugh at her. Worse, they'd laugh at him, the son of a mute woman.

He was completely conflicted, paralyzed by indecision.

Both his parents were strikingly good-looking. If he managed to capture their features well, he was sure he'd win. But if his work didn't turn out right, he could kiss the prize goodbye.

was all his mother's fault, really. She'd never liked going out before, and if only she'd stayed home where she belonged,

She'd ruined everything.

still sat motionless, lost in

close to Timothy and whispered,

snap a photo of Sheila and Timothy, their

could he still have the nerve to refuse

was almost laughable, how easy this case would be

a bit of a tragic figure. If it hadn't been for Mr. Zimmerman's bravery and his willingness to stand up to Timothy,

an heir of The Lawson Group. He even managed to be a different

cool and dismissive. "Leave him

gaze remained fixed

was watching the children on stage, her

fabric paired with a contrasting wrap. Her long hair was braided and rested loosely over her left shoulder, giving her a quietly artistic ainthat perfectly matched the

seen her look

Timothy's eyes glued to Jessica, and a wave of bitterness rose in

mute woman—so

surface, but it

She knew perfectly

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