The mother and child descended the stairs together.
Outside, the sun shone brightly, but it was still a bit cold. Charlotte Smith saw George Stephens shiver slightly as he ca out of the warm café, and couldn’t help but ask, "Why did you co out wearing this?"
George replied, "I like it."
She reached out her hand and held his sowhat cold little hand. George raised his head and looked at her with his dark eyes.
Charlotte said, "When you’re out on your own, rember to keep warm. These clothes are all too small, how about I go with you to buy so that fit?"
"..." George looked at her, gazed for a while, then withdrew his hand from her palm. He said, "Okay."
But his tone was indifferent.
Charlotte lowered her head, looked at her empty palm, remained silent for a mont, and then slowly led George to a nearby children’s clothing store.
George’s clothes were all made by the Stephen family’s tailor, typically there was no need to buy more.
Charlotte picked up two sets of sweatshirts similar to the one he was wearing, and asked, "Which of these two do you like?"
George found a place to sit, hugged his legs, and said to her, "Whatever."
It seed as if she was the one out shopping for clothes.
Charlotte sighed softly, looking at the icy cold expression in the boy’s eyes, and picked one to hand to him, "Go try it on in the fitting room."
George, full of expression in his eyes, took the clothes and went in.
The clothes fit perfectly.
Charlotte bought him several more warm winter outfits in this style and size.
When it ca to selecting a down jacket, she finally couldn’t hold back and turned away from the child to secretly shed tears.
She had never intended to hurt him, yet in the end, she hurt him the deepest.
Only this ti they parted, when will they et again?
This might be retribution.
Every ti she tried to gain sothing for herself, heaven retaliated in the way she could least bear.
Charlotte ended up buying a lot, and in the end, her hands could hardly carry everything.
Seeing her still wanting to shop, George finally couldn’t help saying, "That’s enough."
He got up from the bench, his hands in his pockets, and turned away, "I’m going back."
Charlotte followed after him.
She thought about how soon he would be going to London.
The United States and the United Kingdom aren’t too far apart, but after all, they are not in the sa city anymore; the Stephen family’s influence doesn’t extend that far, and if sothing happens, no one might be able to get there in ti.
"Rember to dress warmly when it’s cold, don’t just eat snacks, rember to have your main als, and let an adult know if you’re sick, don’t endure it by yourself, okay?"
She, like an ordinary mother, couldn’t help but nag her child about all her worries. George, facing away from her, was unclear whether he heard or not, but his small figure appeared weak and alone.
Like a frail little beast without any ability to protect itself.
Charlotte bit her lip, couldn’t help her eyes turning red.
"George, Mom loves you," she said softly behind him.
George’s steps halted, and he stopped a ter ahead of her.
"Mom can’t help it, I want to give you the best. Please don’t leave Mom, okay?"
George slowly turned around.
He lifted his delicate face, with deep dark eyes quietly looking at her.
At this mont, he was calm to a degree unbecoming of a child barely over nine years old.
He asked Charlotte, "Why did you give birth to ?"
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