I chuckled, pushing myself off the couch and said, "If you keep this up, sooner or later you're gonna be digging your own grave! Sorry to burst your bubble, but it was your son who called the cops. Like you, I also hope to find the kid soon and give some closure to the public. But let me remind you, before you call him your grandson, you better make sure he's legit, unless you want the Dawsons to become a laughingstock again."
At my words, Catherine couldn't hold back a giggle.
"Cut the crap! Evan is my grandson. He’s a Dawson!" Farley bellowed, massaging his aching back.
"Why don't you tell that to the reporters outside?" I teased, then turned to Jaylan. "Jaylan, don't you get it? Marissa didn't come here to play the victim voluntarily! You know why she came, don't you?"
My statement added fuel to the fire.
I suspected it was Jerome.
After the police dispersed the crowd, I stood by the window, locking eyes with Marissa, who was under police control. I raised the corners of my mouth slightly and dialed Jaylan's number.
As Jaylan picked up, I suggested in a low voice, "Since she's returned the car, we might as well take it back."
Jaylan stared at me for a few seconds, hung up the phone, and strode over to Marissa. And then he snatched the car keys from her hand. I saw Marissa struggle to grab them back again, but with the police holding her back, she glared venomously in my direction, to which I responded with a warm smile through the window.
The farce ended, the crowd was fully dispersed, and Marissa was taken away in a police car.
After the police left, Jaylan approached me with the car keys in hand. "You can drive it from now on!"
I smirked and asked, "Me?"
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