Sign the Papers Mr. Langford novel Chapter 124

Ms. Miller stood nearby and gave Leo's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

It wasn't a gesture of restraint.

It felt like support.

Seeing that action, a sudden, inexplicable surge of irritation flared in Lawrence's chest.

Everyone was stepping in to parent his son on Wren's behalf.

The teacher, Wren, and even the boy himself were using a brand-new method to defy him.

He hated the feeling.

He bent down, scooped Leo into his arms, and strode briskly toward the parking lot.

The boy remained rigid against his chest, refusing to wrap his arms around his father's neck the way he used to.

Willow trailed behind, the storage box in her hands feeling heavier with every step.

That exquisite new model had never even been taken out.

Every single item she brought today felt like a massive joke.

When they reached the car, Lawrence set Leo down. His voice was suffocatingly cold. "Who taught you to say those things?"

Leo kept his head down. "Nobody taught me."

"Nobody taught you, yet you publicly talk back to adults?"

"I was just saying my mom's name."

"Do you have any idea what people are going to think?"

Tears finally spilled from Leo's eyes. "They were already thinking the wrong thing."

Lawrence was rendered momentarily speechless.

Willow stepped forward gracefully and crouched in front of the boy, her own eyes brimming with tears. "Leo, did my being here today upset you? If it did, I won't come around anymore, okay?"

Her words threw the boy into a panic.

That familiar, crushing guilt crept up again.

It always felt like whenever someone cried, it meant he was the one at fault.

His immediate instinct was to say no.

But his mother had told him that whenever he didn't want to take the blame, he was allowed to take a pause.

Leo gripped his backpack straps and managed to say, "I don't know."

Willow was stunned.

I don't know.

That response was far harder to navigate than outright hatred.

The child was no longer rushing to comfort her or desperately trying to prove how well-behaved he was.

Watching the scene unfold, Lawrence felt the agitation in his chest boil over.

He pulled out his phone and dialed Wren directly.

When the call connected, the line was dead quiet.

"Lawrence?" Wren's voice came through.

He suppressed his fury. "What exactly did you say to Leo?"

Wren didn't answer immediately.

My mom's name is Wren Whitaker.

Wren didn't wait for his response. "Make sure he goes to bed early tonight. And don't force him to apologize."

Lawrence's voice turned to ice. "What gives you the right to give me orders?"

"The fact that I'm his mother."

The call disconnected.

Lawrence stared at the screen, his face a storm of dark emotions.

Willow approached him, her voice barely a whisper. "Lawrence, please don't be mad at Leo. He probably just misses Wren too much."

Lawrence pocketed his phone, offering no reply.

The drive back to The Langford Estate was engulfed in absolute silence.

Leo sat leaning against the window, clutching the taped-up space station.

Willow's reflection was mirrored in the glass.

She stared at the battered old model in the boy's arms and suddenly found it incredibly offensive.

It was broken, lopsided, and pathetic.

Yet the child would rather cling to that than accept the flawless new model she had offered.

It was exactly how the Langford family was finally starting to acknowledge the old remnants Wren had left behind.

They weren't pretty.

But they were real.

And reality was the one thing Willow despised most.