Sign the Papers Mr. Langford novel Chapter 253

After the news of the Thorne Philanthropy Trust's involvement spread, Lawrence returned to the Langford Estate half an hour earlier than usual that evening.

When Wren heard the car, she was in the East Wing Guest Suite, organizing Leo's reading log for the next day.

The first-grade reading log was simple.

Title, date, pages read, and favorite character.

Leo leaned over the desk, gripping his pencil, writing with intense focus: "Little Bear."

His handwriting was crooked, the last stroke dragging out too long.

Wren didn't rush him.

She had noticed lately that whenever the boy did his homework, he would constantly check the adults' reactions first. The more impatient she got, the more anxious he became. So she deliberately stretched out the time, not correcting his mistakes immediately, letting him find them on his own.

Footsteps approached from the hallway.

Steady and deliberate, they stopped right at the door of the Guest Suite.

Wren didn't look up.

Leo was the first to raise his head. "Dad?"

Lawrence stood in the doorway, his gaze sweeping over his son before landing on the reading log in Wren's hands.

He no longer barged right through the door.

It was one of the very few things he had learned over the past few days.

"Homework?"

Leo nodded. "Reading log."

Lawrence stepped inside and glanced at the desk.

He wanted to ask if they needed help, but the words circled in his throat and were swallowed back down.

He couldn't help.

Or rather, he still didn't know how to guide a child through a reading log without just filling in the answers for him.

Wren handed the pencil back to Leo. "Write the last line yourself."

Leo lowered his head and kept writing.

Lawrence watched in silence for a moment before speaking. "There's a charity gala on Friday night."

Wren's hand paused.

She didn't answer immediately.

Lawrence continued, "It's hosted by Langford Medical. It was originally just an internal appreciation dinner, but with the rehab project and several foundations involved this year, it's drawing a lot of outside attention."

He delivered the news casually.

As if he were merely informing her of a minor schedule update.

But Wren knew him too well.

The more strictly business he sounded, the more it proved there was a hidden agenda he was desperate for.

"You're getting entirely too comfortable using our son as an excuse."

Lawrence furrowed his brow. "I'm not using him."

"Then stop using him as your justification." Wren slipped the reading log into the boy's backpack. "The charity gala is a Langford Medical event, not a school function for Leo."

Lawrence fell silent.

When he spoke again, his voice was lower than before. "A few of Grandmother Langford's old friends will be there. They know you moved back into the estate, and they know the ugly rumors circulating lately. If you don't show up, the gossip will only get worse tomorrow."

Wren's fingers went still.

Grandmother Langford.

He didn't weaponize Eleanor Langford this time, nor did he bring up the family's honor.

He knew exactly who she had a soft spot for.

And that manipulative tactic disgusted her more than a direct command ever could.

She met his gaze. "Did Margaret ask you to persuade me?"

"No," Lawrence held her stare. "She doesn't know."

"Then you have even less of a right to use her as an excuse."

Lawrence's expression darkened.

The two of them stood deadlocked across a small desk, Leo's freshly written reading log resting between them. The child's handwriting, childish yet meticulous, was caught in the crossfire of their standoff, looking strikingly out of place.