The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 315

Clara woke up early the next day.

She hadn't slept well, and her head felt heavy. When she came downstairs, Noah was already at the dining table, spreading jam on a slice of bread for Felix.

"Morning," Noah said, looking up. "I can take Felix to kindergarten today."

Clara nodded and pulled out a chair. "Good. Alex gets back from his business trip today, so Simon and I have to go into the office."

She desperately needed work right now.

Only by being busy could she push out all the chaotic thoughts swirling in her head.

Felix, munching on his bread, stared at Clara for a moment. "Mommy, your eyes are puffy."

"I slept too late last night," Clara lied without missing a beat.

Noah handed the jam-covered bread to Felix. "In that case, after I drop Felix off, I'll stop by the hospital."

Clara's hand, reaching for a glass, froze.

"That's his problem," she said coolly. "Daniel is still in Heron Bay. It's not your turn to visit him."

Noah smiled. "You're right. I won't worry about it then."

After breakfast, Clara changed and left the house.

In the car, she said suddenly, "I think there's something wrong with me."

Simon glanced over. "How so?"

"I hate him so much, but it still hurts."

She didn't know how to describe it.

It was like a thorn stuck in her heart. Pulling it out was painful, but leaving it in was just as agonizing. It was just a constant, dull ache.

Simon shot her a look. "That's called being human. If you had a dog for five years and then found out it had been abused as a puppy, you'd probably shed a tear or two. He's a person, for God's sake."

His analogy was so absurd she almost laughed, but she couldn't summon the energy. "You're the dog."

"I'm serious," Simon said, his tone turning sincere. "Clara, it's normal to feel sympathy, but you can't misplace it. You're not the one who made his life miserable. If you have to, just compartmentalize it. Give him a little bit of your maternal instinct, but keep it separate from everything else."

Clara was quiet for a moment before murmuring, "Yeah."

She could keep it separate.

Clara pushed the door open and scanned the room.

A chubby little boy was sitting on a chair, bawling his eyes out, a bandage stuck to his forehead.

Clara didn't recognize him; he wasn't in Felix's class.

A woman standing next to him, presumably his mother, was pointing a finger in the teacher's face and yelling.

"I look away for one second, and my Ivan gets hurt like this! You charge so much for tuition here, and this is the kind of supervision you provide? Where is that little monster's parent? Why aren't they here yet!"

"Ma'am, please, calm down…"

Felix was standing in the corner, his head down.

He wasn't crying. A button was missing from his uniform, and there were two long, broken scratches on his little arm.

Clara's heart dropped. She rushed over and knelt in front of him, taking his small hands in hers. "Felix?"

Felix looked up. His eyes, usually curved in a smile, were dark and heavy. His lips were pressed into a thin, white line. Only when he saw Clara did his gaze flicker. "Mommy," he whispered.

"What happened? Are you hurt anywhere?" Clara ignored everyone else, her focus entirely on checking him over. "Does your hand hurt? Does anywhere else hurt?"