Chapter 138 Choosing Clara
Whenever Clara spoke about Scarlett to her teachers and friends, she would instinctively straighten her posture and lift her chin with visible pride, her eyes shining with unmistakable admiration and devotion.
straps of
Scarlett couldn’t help but smile affectionately at the sight, but then her gaze drifted to Vanessa. Her own daughter stood slightly behind Clara, partially hidden. Vanessa clutched the her backpack so tightly her small knuckles turned white, her head bowed low, her slender shoulders trembling almost imperceptibly.
She had clearly been crying.
A sharp, twisting pain shot through Scarlett’s heart. She wanted to call out to Vanessa, to offer some comfort, but the words seemed to lodge in her throat, thick and unspoken, and she forced them back down.
Clara happily walked out of the school gate and eagerly grabbed Scarlett’s hand.
Snapping out of her thoughts, Scarlett magically produced a pink doll from behind her back- the exact one Clara had been begging for-and handed it to Clara. “Look what I found-the toy you’ve been wanting.”
Clara took the doll and jumped up and down with pure delight. “Thank you, Auntie! You’re the absolute best!” she exclaimed, her voice ringing with joy.
After showering Scarlett with thanks, Clara insisted she crouch down. She wrapped her small arms tightly around Scarlett’s neck, covering her cheeks with quick, affectionate kisses and gentle pats.
Vanessa watched from inside the school grounds, her grip on her backpack straps tightening unconsciously. She glared at Clara, her young eyes burning with a mixture of resentment, jealousy, and raw anger.
That was her mom. Why did Clara get all the hugs and kisses? Why was her own mother here to pick up Clara and not her?
Vanessa felt deeply wronged and furious, a hot, bitter feeling rising in her chest, but Scarlett seemed to be ignoring her completely, and no one appeared to notice just how upset she was.
Scarlett gently ruffled Clara’s hair, smoothing it back into place with a tender touch, and said softly, “Clara, don’t forget to say goodbye to your teacher.”
Clara turned and waved cheerfully at her teacher. “Goodbye, Ms. Monroe! See you tomorrow!”
Then Scarlett took Clara’s hand firmly in hers, and the two of them walked off into the curtain
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of rain, each holding an umbrella—one large, one small—their figures gradually blurring into the gray afternoon.
Vanessa stood frozen at the school gate, watching Scarlett and Clara turn the corner and disappear. She reached out, her small hands gripping the cold, wet iron bars of the gate, and cried out with all her might, “Mom!”
But the rain was falling too heavily, its steady drumming drowning out her voice, and Clara was chattering so excitedly that Scarlett didn’t hear Vanessa’s desperate call at all.
Lily arrived a few minutes late and nearly bumped into Scarlett just as she was leaving.
“Mrs. Stewart,” Lily greeted Scarlett respectfully, adjusting her own umbrella.
Clara immediately stopped her animated chattering and looked up curiously at Scarlett, waiting to see what would happen.
“Lily, thank you for coming. Vanessa is still waiting inside. Please take her straight home, help her wash up early, and make sure she doesn’t spend too much time on her phone before bed,” Scarlett instructed.
She clearly wasn’t fully at case, giving Lily detailed instructions as if trying to maintain some control from a distance.
Lily looked as if she wanted to say something several times, her mouth opening slightly, but Scarlett didn’t give her the opportunity, turning her attention back to Clara.
“Clara, let’s go home now,” Scarlett said to Clara, her voice softening again.
Clara nodded obediently. “Okay, Auntie.”
With that, Scarlett took Clara’s hand and led her to the car without a backward glance, not seeing the small figure still pressed against the gate.
The car quickly drove away, its taillights disappearing into the rainy evening.
When Lily went to collect Vanessa, she found the little girl in tears, her small body shaking with sobs, completely falling apart emotionally.
Even after getting into the car, Vanessa continued to cry, refusing to let go of her backpack as if it were a lifeline.
Lily held her close, trying everything to comfort her. “Sweetie, your dad is busy with work, and Mrs. Stewart has her own matters to attend to. Please don’t cry, alright? I will make you some french fries when we get home, how does that sound?” she offered, stroking the child’s hair.
Vanessa clung to Lily, not listening to a word, just repeating over and over between ragged sobs.
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“Mom doesn’t want me anymore… She doesn’t want me…”
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Lily was growing increasingly flustered, at a complete loss for what to say or do to ease such a deep hurt.
It wasn’t until Vanessa had cried herself to exhaustion, her small body going limp, that she finally looked up at Lily with red, swollen eyes and mumbled weakly, “Lily, I miss Sabrina.”
If Sabrina were here, she thought miserably, she wouldn’t have been left waiting alone with no one to pick her up.
Lily couldn’t help but gently remind her, “Sweetie, Mrs. Stewart is your real mother. She’s the one who loves you the most.”
“No, she’s not my mom,” Vanessa insisted, her voice trembling but firm. “I don’t want a mom like her. Sabrina is my real mom.”
*****
After Scarlett brought Clara home, the little girl rushed straight to the kitchen to reheat the pancake she had made that morning with such pride.
She carefully brought it out on a small plate and watched expectantly as Scarlett took her first bite, her eyes wide with hope.
To be honest, it was a bit cold in the middle and slightly burnt at the edges, but Scarlett finished the entire piece anyway, praising Clara warmly for her effort while gently suggesting small improvements for next time, like cooking it a little slower.
Clara listened attentively, taking every word to heart, and promised earnestly, “I’ll make an even better one for you next time, Auntie!”
After dinner, the family sat together in the cozy living room, chatting comfortably as the rain continued outside.
When Scarlett went upstairs later to wash up, she picked up her phone from the bedside table and was startled to see over a dozen missed calls-all from Vincent.
She was still processing this, a sense of foreboding settling in her stomach, when her phone lit up again-another call from Vincent.
A gut feeling told Scarlett that something urgent must have happened, so she answered immediately, her heart beginning to race.
The moment the call connected, Vincent’s voice came through-harsh, impatient, and filled with barely restrained anger. “Scarlett, what the hell are you doing? Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”
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His aggressive tone instantly put Scarlett on the defensive, erasing any concern and replacing it with sharp irritation. She retorted sharply, “Vincent, what I’m doing is none of your business, is it?”
“Vanessa is sick,” he snapped, clearly having no interest in arguing and going straight to the point, his voice tense with urgency. “You need to come see her. Right now.”
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Awakened Housewife Ignore Betrayer’s Begs
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