Sign the Papers Mr. Langford novel Chapter 275

Wren stood at the classroom door, not entering immediately.

In that split second, the first thing she noticed was Leo's hands.

The little boy was gripping his backpack straps, his knuckles turning white, the edges of his nails tinged with blue. He wasn't crying, and he wasn't struggling. He just stood there, looking like a wooden block awkwardly shoved to the front of the room.

Crouching beside him, Willow moved with deliberate gentleness.

She finished pinning the name tag and pressed her finger against the light blue sticker, as if afraid it might fall off.

The words "Aunt-Mom" were written beautifully and elegantly.

A few parents nearby smiled as they watched.

"Aunts are so good with kids these days."

"Leo's mom must be busy with work. It's nice to have someone help out."

"He's such a quiet boy, looks just like Mr. Langford."

Hearing this, Willow's smile deepened into something even sweeter.

She made no effort to correct them.

She was reveling in the misunderstanding.

Looking at the altered name tag, the roaring anger in Wren's head suddenly vanished.

When fury reaches its absolute peak, a person just goes cold.

She walked in.

The classroom smelled of construction paper, glue, and children's hand lotion. Big letters on the blackboard read: My Family Open House.

The click of her heels was light, but it made a parent near the door turn to look.

Willow looked up as well.

A fleeting flash of surprise crossed her eyes when she saw Wren.

The surprise instantly morphed into an expertly crafted look of apology.

"Wren," she stood up. "You're here."

Wren didn't look at her.

She walked straight to Leo, knelt down, and lightly touched the tag on his chest.

"Did you put this on yourself?"

Leo shook his head.

It was a tiny movement.

As if he were terrified that even this small action would humiliate someone.

Wren looked at him. "Do you want to keep it?"

Leo's eyes instantly welled up.

He glanced at Willow, then at the adults in the room. Everyone was watching him. The teachers, his classmates, the parents—they were all waiting for his answer.

He hated these moments the most.

The smile completely vanished from Willow's face.

Clutching the torn sticker, Leo's voice trembled, but his words were clear.

"She's not my mom."

Nobody in the room spoke.

Tears pooled in Leo's eyes, threatening to spill over, but he kept going.

"And she's not the family I wrote down."

He lowered his head and placed the ruined sticker on the desk.

He patted his original name tag with his small hand.

"I wrote Wren Whitaker."

A six-year-old child couldn't deliver a sharper blow.

But that one sentence was enough.

Enough to shut up all the parents who had just been praising the "Aunt-Mom."

Enough to leave Willow standing there, like a spotlight had just illuminated all the cracks on her face.

Her lips parted.

Her eyes quickly grew red.

"Leo, I was just afraid your mom would be too busy..."