Too Late, Mr. Cooper: Your Bride Ran with Your Baby novel Chapter 459

Liliana looked down at the exquisitely wrapped box in Lucas’s hands, her expression unreadable.

She offered a small smile. “Lucas, thank you for going through the trouble of delivering these gifts every year.”

“Just set it aside for now. I’ll look at it later when I have time.”

In truth, Liliana never opened the gifts Lucas brought.

“Of course,” Lucas replied, not pressing the issue. Some things were understood between them and didn’t need to be said aloud.

Amelia stared at Lucas curiously, blinking her big, dark eyes. “Mommy,” she asked in her sweet, childish voice, “who is this uncle that sends you gifts every year? Why doesn’t he come himself?”

At Amelia’s innocent question, a silence fell over everyone nearby.

What could they say?

How could you tell a three-year-old child that the person sending the gifts was her father, and the reason he didn’t come was…

Because he was dead.

It felt too cruel.

Liliana set Amelia down on the floor and gently coaxed her, “It’s nobody, sweetie. Lots of people send Mommy gifts.”

“Why don’t you go find Grandma, Amelia? Mommy needs to talk to Mr. Grant for a minute.”

Liliana gave Amelia a gentle nudge, hoping to distract her.

Children had short attention spans. They were curious about everything, but their focus rarely lasted long.

It worked.

Her question was forgotten as quickly as it had been asked. Amelia happily toddled off in Elizabeth Grayson’s direction, calling back, “Okay, Mommy! I’m going to play with Grandma!”

Liliana couldn't help but smile at her daughter’s adorable voice.

She watched Amelia run towards Mrs. Hart for a moment before turning back to Lucas.

After just a few turns, she was completely lost.

She stood in the middle of a wide, empty corridor, looking around miserably. Everything looked the same, and she couldn’t find the restroom anywhere. Her lower lip began to tremble, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes.

Feeling helpless and alone, Amelia started to cry, wiping at her eyes with her small hands.

“Waaa… Mommy, where are you, Mommy…”

“Waaa… Mommy… Daddy…”

Her sobs grew louder and more desperate. Finally, she tilted her little head back and, in her distress, instinctively called out for the father she’d never met.

She didn’t have a father.

But for some reason, crying out for him in times of trouble felt like an instinct carved into her very bones since the day she was born.

Amelia wiped her tears away, crying her heart out. “Waaa, Mommy, Daddy…”