She Quit Her Family and Found Herself novel Chapter 90

Whatever had set the man off had absolutely nothing to do with her.

Hulda tucked the phone away and turned her attention back to the passing scenery.

She expected the suffocating silence to stretch all the way back to the estate, but Herbert broke it first. "Who was that?"

"Someone unimportant," Hulda replied smoothly.

"Someone unimportant calls you out of the blue and panics over your safety?"

He had heard the voice clearly. When Hulda dropped the phone, the man on the other end had sounded frantic, practically demanding to know where she was so he could come find her.

Herbert seriously doubted an "unimportant" person would act like that.

Hulda obviously didn't flatter herself into thinking Herbert was jealous. She had a very clear grasp of reality.

He was probably just annoyed that she was supposedly neglecting his son to chat on the phone.

At the end of the day, in Herbert's eyes—and the eyes of the entire Jewell family—she was nothing more than an unpaid nanny.

"What? Am I not allowed to have a social life? Do I need to submit a full report to you every time my phone rings, Mr. Jewell?" Hulda let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "I'm not Sylvie Sinclair, and I'm not one of your students. Stop trying to control me."

"Why do you constantly have to drag Sylvie into this? I've told you before—"

"Stop." Hulda cut him off immediately. If she let him keep talking, it would just spiral into another exhausting, endless argument. She was so unbelievably sick of fighting with him. "You're right, my mistake. I shouldn't have brought her up. Let's just drop it. I'm tired."

Herbert clearly had more to say, but seeing the cold, impenetrable wall she had thrown up, he swallowed his words.

She planned to leave the second his eyes closed.

But Miles furiously shook his head. "No! If I fall asleep, you'll leave! Mom, please don't go."

Hulda's chest tightened. Honestly, looking down at his pale, desperate little face, it was impossible not to feel her resolve cracking.

"Mom, I want your sweet and sour ribs." Miles grabbed her hand, his voice thick with pleading.

Hulda stared at him, finally letting out a soft, defeated sigh. "Your stomach can't handle anything that heavy right now. Tell you what—I'll go downstairs and make you something you can actually eat. How does that sound?"

Miles thought about it for a second. He loved everything she cooked anyway, so he nodded happily. "Okay!"