The night was deep and tranquil, with the chilly evening breeze kept outside the window.
In the bedroom, only a gentle floor lamp was lit, casting a warm, dusky glow reminiscent of the last rays of sunset—warm, but not scorching.
Tanya Sinclair sat by Joy’s bedside, silently watching over her daughter, with one hand resting on Joy’s shoulder, half hugging her.
Tanya shut her eyes pretending to sleep, but she was sleeping lightly; if her daughter showed any unease, she would gently pat her, soothing her without a sound.
Joy gradually cald down, subconsciously snuggling closer to her, still uncomfortable, with her little face frowned up, and her small hands clutching Tanya’s hem, rubbing against it unconsciously.
A good sll.
It wasn’t the perfu scent from Cindy Mommy, but another one, like the sun-drenched grass, surrounding her warmly, soothingly loosening her tensed brow.
Joy laboriously opened her blurry eyes to see Tanya Sinclair with her head half lowered, looking drowsy and tired.
"..."
This was the bad woman.
Joy was stunned for a mont.
She imdiately thought of Cindy Mommy, and felt a bit of resistance against Tanya Sinclair, she was on Cindy Mommy’s side!
Joy weakly struggled for a bit, but the bad woman before her seed so tired, unable to open her eyes, yet her hands instinctively patted on Joy’s back lightly.
One pat at a ti, gently comforting.
"Don’t be afraid, darling, Mommy’s here," Tanya softly murmured.
"..."
Joy paused, the little resistance inside her seed to fade away with those pats. Seeing Tanya Sinclair’s tendency to open her eyes, Joy quickly shut her eyes tightly.
Then she felt the woman’s warm hand falling on her forehead.
She heard Tanya Sinclair breathe a sigh of relief.
"Good, not warm anymore."
Joy: "..."
The hand of this bad woman was unlike Cindy Mommy’s; Cindy Mommy’s hands were very soft, but this bad woman’s palms were coarse.
Grandma said, only those who have done a lot of work, those who’ve had a hard life, have such coarse hands.
’Our Joy is a princess her whole life, she will never need to work. Only those from the lower class have to work hard.’
That’s what the adults always said.
But, was this bad woman from the lower class?
Joy was a bit puzzled.
Wasn’t this bad woman her and her brother’s biological mother?
Grandma and Auntie both said this bad woman married Dad for a better life.
But why were her hands so coarse, with calluses, not at all like living a good life...
Could it be that after marrying Dad, she still lived very hard?
But, how could that be?
Dad was obviously so gentle, so nice...
Joy couldn’t figure it out; the more she thought, the heavier her head felt, and she soon drifted off to sleep unknowingly, her head resting against Tanya Sinclair’s leg, with even breathing, sleeping sweetly.
Tanya Sinclair worried that Joy might have a relapse of fever overnight, so she didn’t dare sleep deeply; she would open her eyes at the slightest movent.
So when Rhys Lucas’s ssage ca in, the phone vibrated slightly, waking her almost instantly, and she reflexively grabbed the phone, looking at the ti first.
It was already ten past midnight.
She rembered Vincent Hawthorne making a point of promising when he left to be back before midnight.
Vincent Hawthorne was a jerk, but he treated the kids fairly well; if he really ca back, he wouldn’t miss checking on Joy... Since he didn’t appear, he hadn’t returned.
A thick layer of sarcasm appeared in Tanya Sinclair’s eyes.
The jerk man’s words are nothing but jerk speak!
After unlocking, Tanya was a bit surprised to find the ssage was actually from Rhys Lucas.
Two unread ssages.
In all her years knowing Rhys Lucas, if he actively sent her a ssage, there was just one purpose—to disgust her!
Tanya Sinclair clicked in to take a glance, and sure enough, Rhys Lucas sent a picture depicting Vincent Hawthorne sitting beside a hospital bed, ticulously cutting fruit for Cindy Lynn.
Rhys Lucas: [Did Vincent ever take such care of you when you were hospitalized before? Isn’t it amusing that you insist on occupying Mrs. Hawthorne’s spot, Tanya Sinclair?]
Tanya Sinclair: "..."
Honestly, Rhys Lucas’s two ssages were now virtually harmless to her.
She wasn’t at all surprised that Vincent Hawthorne went out late at night to accompany Cindy Lynn because it wasn’t the first ti.
Tanya Sinclair calmly took a screenshot, saving it, and stored it in a private folder nad [Evidence of the Scumbag’s Infidelity].
She had to thank Rhys Lucas for delivering further evidence of Vincent Hawthorne’s affair right to her.
Once she saved the evidence, Tanya Sinclair then deftly removed Rhys Lucas from her friends list, blocked, and deleted him.
After all, her WeChat was not a garbage dump; not all dirty things should remain.
...
anwhile.
Vincent Hawthorne carried Cindy Lynn’s bag as they left the hospital.
He personally opened the car door to the back seat for Cindy Lynn.
The driver seated in the front had long since beco accustod to the sight.
After the two boarded the car, Vincent Hawthorne casually instructed, "Take Secretary Lynn ho first."
"Alright, President Hawthorne." The driver professionally responded, then automatically raised the divider.
The entire back seat beca a private space.
Vincent Hawthorne glanced at the ti, subtly furrowing his brows.
"Vincent, did I delay you tonight?" Cindy Lynn slightly regretted, "If I had known earlier that Senior Brother Lucas was ssaging you, I definitely wouldn’t have let you make a trip..."
"It’s fine." Vincent Hawthorne interrupted her, looking at Cindy Lynn, "After all, you received this ailnt because of . I thought you had recovered over these years..."
After all, it was Tanya Sinclair who personally formulated and brewed the dicine, and Cindy Lynn dutifully took it for two consecutive years. Her complexion improved significantly at the ti, and she had no episodes of fainting.
Vincent Hawthorne thus believed she had recovered.
Cindy Lynn lowered her eyes, softly spoke, "Actually, these years, I occasionally still took dicine to regulate, but I didn’t want you to be too remorseful about this matter, feeling indebted to ..."
Saying this, Cindy Lynn couldn’t help but express, "After all, Ms. Tanya’s dical skills are exceptional. Her dicine works best for ."
"..."
Vincent Hawthorne didn’t imdiately respond, his long legs crossed, as he placed one hand on his knee. His upright, handso face was intermittently illuminated by street lamps, making it hard to discern his expression.
After a while, Vincent Hawthorne spoke slowly.
"Before I ca, Tanya told that when you delivered dicine oil to her this afternoon, you said so harsh words in front of her."
While he imdiately dismissed this claim at that ti.
But looking at it closer, Tanya Sinclair certainly wasn’t soone who would make up rumors or slander irresponsibly.
At her core, she was the most dignified and proud, unlikely to stoop to such deeds.
He turned his gaze to Cindy Lynn beside him, with an investigative look: "Cindy, I want to hear the truth. What did you actually say?"
Cindy Lynn’s fingers curled up on one side, clenched tightly on the fabric.
"It was ... I said harsh words." Cindy Lynn quietly confessed, "I told Tanya Sinclair that the dicine oil was bought for by you, I couldn’t use it all, so I was giving it to her..."
Cindy Lynn offered a bitter smile, slowly raised her face, while the street lamp’s light passed over her delicate pale face, reflecting vulnerable glistening tears in her eyes.
As a line of tear mark streaked from Cindy Lynn’s eye corner, Vincent Hawthorne’s pupils tightened.
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