Chapter 3

At Wendy's words, both Terry and I froze.

Especially Terry. He parted his lips, and tears began to fall uncontrollably. "Mommy…"

Perhaps those words stirred something in her. Her brows furrowed, and her gaze turned colder than the snowstorm outside.

"Go ahead. What's your goal this time? Money or a house?" she asked.

Terry's hand, hanging at his side, clenched into a fist, but he didn't dare to argue.

Once, he had told Wendy that Hudson bullied him.

But with just a few words, Hudson made Wendy believe that I had manipulated Terry into accusing him because I was jealous of how well she treated Hudson.

That time, Wendy locked me in the basement for a whole week. Terry had nightmares for a week straight.

At that thought, Terry couldn't help but shudder. He lowered his head and whispered, "Mommy, I can't wake Daddy up. Can you give me your feather pen?"

Wendy's heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively asked, "What do you mean, you can't wake him? Didn't he just donate 400 ml of blood—"

"Wendy!" Hudson interrupted her just in time.

Wendy turned, her face full of surprise. "What's wrong?"

Sensing her confused gaze, Hudson stiffened and awkwardly changed the subject. "Today's Christmas Eve. If Terry stays out too late, Elijah will definitely worry. It's just a feather pen. Just give it to him. Don't go ruining their Christmas."

Sure enough, Wendy's attention was quickly diverted, and her expression softened. "Hudson, you're still so kind. In that case, Terry, come with me."

The group entered the villa. Under the bright lights, Terry's injured face looked even worse.

Hudson's daughter, Gracie Clark, approached and looked Terry up and down, then asked curiously, "Mommy Wendy, who's this? A beggar? He's so dirty."

Her innocent words made Terry's face flush with embarrassment.

He looked at Wendy weakly, hoping she would explain, but she seemed to be triggered.

She glanced at Terry with disgust. "Is this how your dad taught you to play the pity card? Do you think if you make yourself look miserable, I'll feel sorry for you? How pathetic!"

As Wendy spoke, the redness on Terry's face faded, leaving behind a pale, fragile expression.

He thought that Wendy really didn't love him anymore.

He wiped the tears from his face. By the time he raised his head, Wendy had already gone upstairs.

Only Hudson remained. He looked at Terry with a smug gaze full of fake sympathy. "Tsk, tsk, how pitiful. Even your mom doesn't want you. Why don't you call me 'Dad', and I'll let you stay to be my little pet dog? How's that sound?"

"Dream on!"

Terry clenched his fists tightly. His eyes were red, and his whole body trembled with anger.

"You're not my dad. I only have one dad, and his name is Elijah Heath, not you! Don't get too smug. When Daddy wakes up, he'll make you pay for this!"

Terry gritted his teeth, his voice filled with unwavering determination.

But my heart ached so much that it felt like I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't bear to think of how devastated he would be when he realized I would never wake up.

How could he face the storms ahead? He was only six.

Tears blurred my vision.

Hudson was now completely enraged. Suddenly, he had an idea.

Seeing that Wendy was coming downstairs, he patted his pocket with a frantic expression. "Where's my phone? It's missing!"

Hudson hastily checked his pockets. Finally, his gaze landed on Terry. A wicked smile curled at his lips. "Terry, did you steal my phone?"

Terry was startled and immediately denied it. "I didn't! Your phone was—"

The rest of his words were cut off as a slap landed across his face.

Wendy held a feather pen in one hand and pointed at Terry's bruised face with the other. Her gaze was filled with disappointment. "I knew you were up to no good! It was bad enough when your dad coached you into accusing Hudson, but now you have the nerve to steal from him? How did I end up with a son like you?"