Sign the Papers Mr. Langford novel Chapter 244

What was truly terrifying was tricking him into believing those cracks were a perfectly normal part of being whole.

When she dropped Leo off at the school gates, Ms. Miller was already waiting.

Seeing the boy's red-rimmed eyes, she paused, but she didn't press the issue right then and there. Instead, she crouched down and asked, "Leo, how about we go wash your face together?"

Leo looked at Wren.

Wren nodded. "Go ahead."

The child followed Ms. Miller inside, but after a few steps, he turned back.

"Are you going to pick me up today, Mom?"

"I will."

"Will you be home before seven?"

"I will be today."

Only then did Leo continue following Ms. Miller.

Wren stood at the gate, watching his small figure disappear into the building before pulling out her phone to text Mr. Lawson.

"During the observation period, the Langford elders continuously engage in negative attribution in front of the child. The child's emotional state was affected this morning. I will update the records."

Mr. Lawson replied quickly: "Received. Suggest updating Ms. Miller on this."

Wren typed back, "Will do."

Just as she put her phone away, Lawrence called.

She stared at his name on the screen, letting it ring.

Just before it went to voicemail, she answered.

Lawrence's voice was heavy. "How's Leo?"

"He cried."

The line went dead silent.

Wren stared at the gingko trees by the school entrance, her tone completely flat. "He asked me if I disliked Dad's house."

Lawrence's breath hitched.

"What did you say?"

"I told him he was allowed to feel however he wanted to feel."

Lawrence fell silent for a long time.

Wren knew that wasn't what he wanted to hear.

He probably wanted to know if she had badmouthed the Langford Estate in front of the kid, if she had pushed him away, or if she had taken the opportunity to force the boy to pick a side.

But she wasn't going to spoon-feed him the answers he was looking for.

After a while, Lawrence muttered, "I'll talk to my mother."

Wren looked off into the distance.

Lawrence didn't elaborate.

He walked out of the dining room. As he passed the living room, he noticed the toy block house from last night still sitting on the rug.

It had a red roof and a crooked little pathway.

Two tiny figures stood at the entrance.

The black figure representing him was placed on the path, just three blocks away from the door.

Lawrence walked over and crouched down.

He had intended to move it a little closer.

But his hand paused midway.

That morning's question—"Why didn't Dad say anything?"—felt like a needle piercing his skin, leaving his fingertips numb.

In the end, he didn't touch the house.

He simply picked up a single stray block near the edge of the rug and tossed it back into the box.

Just one block.

Only one.

A pathetic effort.

Yet it was the first time he hadn't waited for Wren to clean up his mess.