His Wicked Obsession (Archer and Virginia) novel Chapter 350

"Mrs. Caldwell." Virginia stood up, poured a glass of warm water, and placed it on the coffee table.

Madeline hesitated for a moment before taking a seat on the sofa with a stiff expression. She made no move to touch the water.

She clasped her hands tightly in her lap, her knuckles turning pale as she gripped her purse strap.

"Virginia, Chloe told me... you are Ginny." She finally spoke, her voice horribly dry.

Virginia's expression didn't change in the slightest as she sat down in the single armchair across from her.

"Yes. But Mrs. Caldwell, I have already informed Archer. After a comprehensive evaluation, my treatment of Chloe has officially been terminated. Her hostility toward me is too extreme. Forcing interventions will only backfire."

She explained patiently, keeping it strictly professional.

"...I know." Madeline lowered her eyelashes, her eyes instantly turning red. "But Toby... he's the same age as Cindy. He's only four years old."

At the mention of Toby, Virginia's fingers, which were resting on her knees, subtly tightened.

"That day, Chloe slashed his arm with a pair of scissors. He had to get six stitches. Now, the moment he hears a loud noise, he dives under the table. When he eats or speaks, he's absolutely terrified of doing anything wrong."

At this point, Madeline's voice choked with a sob. "Virginia, I haven't been able to sleep for nights on end. Sometimes I wonder... if I hadn't spoiled Chloe so much since she was young, if I hadn't raised her wrong, would she have turned into the monster she is today?"

Virginia lowered her gaze, remaining silent.

"If I hadn't indulged her all those years ago... would everything have been entirely different?"

Madeline looked up, a rare, profound regret flashing through her eyes.

An image of Toby's soft, chubby face flashed in Virginia's mind.

That little boy, the same age as Cindy, who used to timidly call her Auntie.

As a mother herself, there was absolutely no way she could remain indifferent to the suffering of a four-year-old child.

The room descended into a silence so profound that only the faint hum of the air conditioning vent could be heard.

Leaning back against the sofa, Virginia tilted her head up to stare at the ceiling.

A simple 'I'm sorry', late by an entire six years.

Back when she had been kicked out of her home, fired from her job, and stripped of her exchange opportunity at Mercer Psychiatric Hospital... when she had been pushed to the absolute brink of despair, she had clawed her way back up entirely on her own.

For years, she had fought tooth and nail in a foreign country, raising Cindy alone. She had gone from a traumatized PTSD patient who couldn't even hold a glass of water steady to the woman she was today.

No one knew how she had swallowed her own blood and tears, brutally forcing herself into an emotionless machine just to emerge from her cocoon.

Now, what could a flimsy, weightless apology possibly erase?

A suffocating tightness gripped her throat as tears slipped silently from the corners of her eyes, landing heavily on her light-colored blouse and blooming into dark, wet stains.