Chapter 155
Because in my mind, Milly had always been a timid, quiet child.
She never took the initiative to attack anyone. Even when Jack bullied her, she would mostly just endure it silently or come running to me.
This was the first time she had suddenly pushed someone like this.
When I grabbed Milly, her little mouth quivered, and her eyes instantly turned red—not from fear, but from a sense of being misunderstood, mixed with grievance and stubbornness.
She looked up at me with her little face, her voice choked with tears yet unusually clear, "I don't want him following us, and I don't want him talking about Mommy like that. He can't bully Mommy!"
My heart jolted violently.
Compared to Jack's malicious, twisted accusations just moments ago, Milly's simple yet protective words felt like the warmest yet most bittersweet current, washing fiercely over my heart.
It was that kind of touching heartache.
My daughter was using her small strength to clumsily protect me.
And Jack's presence at this moment only made me feel completely suffocated and disgusted.
Six years.
I had raised him from a baby in swaddling clothes to now—able to run and jump, healthy and strong.
I had fed him, coaxed him to sleep, played with him, taught him to read, stayed up all night watching over him when he was sick...
I thought that hearts were made of flesh, that even without blood ties, the warmth of living together day and night could earn at least some genuine affection.
But reality slapped me hard in the face.
Six years of care, and what I got in return was him unhesitatingly standing on his biological mother's side, attacking me with the most vicious language, accusing me, even blaming everything on me.
As if all those years of devotion were a joke, taken for granted, or even not worth mentioning.
I had nothing left to hope for.
I no longer expected Jack to become good or to distinguish right from wrong.
Once he returned to Sarah, his real mother, and received that kind of education and indoctrination, he was destined to part ways with me, even to see me as an enemy.
So I could never possibly agree to George's ridiculous arrangement to take care of Jack.
I released Milly and had her stand behind me.
Then I took out my phone and directly called the Old Smith Mansion. Linda answered.
"Linda," my voice had no warmth whatsoever, "Jack is now at the police station entrance. George told me to take care of him, but I'm not available, and I have no obligation to do so."
"Please arrange for someone to pick him up within half an hour. I'll only wait half an hour. When the time's up, if no one comes, I'll leave him directly at the police station entrance."
I spoke calmly, but every word was firm and unquestionable.
"Mrs. Smith, this..." Linda sounded hesitant and troubled on the other end.
"Linda, I'm not asking for your opinion," I interrupted her, "The timer has already started. Thank you."
With that, I hung up directly, then opened my phone's timer function and set a thirty-minute countdown.
I held the screen facing outward so everyone could see the jumping numbers.
Jack got up from the ground. Hearing my words and seeing that I had actually started the timer, he first froze, then became even more unruly, "What right do you have not to take care of me? Dad said you should look after me. What right do you have to disobey Dad?"
He rushed up to me, his little face twisted with anger, "You really are an evil stepmother. You don't love me at all. You just want to take revenge on me and get back at my mom!"
I looked coldly at him jumping and screaming in front of me, my face expressionless, as if watching a ridiculous show that had nothing to do with me.
Seeing that I remained completely unmoved, Jack's eyes finally showed real panic.
He probably realized that this time, I truly wouldn't soften and compromise like before, no matter how much he acted up.
He began to change tactics, his tone softening, with a crying voice, "Ms. Brown, don't leave me here. I'm scared. Please, take me home. I promise I'll behave..."
No matter how he begged or played pitiful, I just silently watched the decreasing time on my phone screen without saying a word.
My silence and determination shattered Jack's last hope.
The panic on his face turned into resentment as he glared at me.
Time passed second by second.
Just when the countdown had five minutes left, Linda arrived with two Smith family bodyguards in a hurry.
"Jack, come back with me." Linda stepped forward to pull Jack.
But Jack violently shook off her hand, pointed at my nose, and screamed with all his might, "Grace! You heartless evil woman! You really are the most vicious! No wonder Dad wants to divorce you! You deserve it! When my mom and Dad really get together and get married, you'll be jealous! You and your little bastard daughter will never be able to return to our Smith family!"
His words were loaded with information, shouted out in a public place like the police station entrance.
My expression remained calm, as if I hadn't heard anything.
But Linda's and the two bodyguards' faces instantly became incredibly complex—shocked, embarrassed, incredulous...
They clearly hadn't expected Jack to shout out George and Sarah's relationship and George's plan to divorce so bluntly in front of outsiders.
This essentially confirmed all those rumors.
Jack was still venting his dissatisfaction and resentment, completely unaware that he had caused trouble.
I didn't bother to look at him again. I bent down, picked up Milly, and turned to leave.
"Mommy..." Milly lay on my shoulder, looking back at Jack who was still cursing, her little face full of tension and worry, her small hands tightly hugging my neck.
I carried her and quickly walked toward my car, opened the door, settled her in the child seat, fastened her seatbelt, then got into the driver's seat myself.
The car left the police station and merged into the evening traffic.
The car was very quiet. Milly kept sneaking glances at me, her eyes full of unease.
I took a deep breath, slowly suppressing the surging anger in my heart, along with an indescribable sadness.
At a red light, I turned my head, looked into Milly's clear eyes, and said to her with unprecedented solemnity, "Milly, Mommy wants to tell you that from now on, your family is only Mommy, your grandmother, and people like William and Emily who truly care about us and love us."
I paused, my voice clear and firm, "Those people from the Smith family—George, Jack, and that Sarah—they have nothing to do with us anymore."
"From now on, they are strangers to us. Do you understand what Mommy means?"
Milly looked at me, her big eyes blinking, as if trying hard to digest and understand my words.
After several seconds, she nodded vigorously, her little face showing a seriousness beyond her years, "Mommy, I understand. I won't treat Jack as my brother anymore."
"And I won't call that person... Daddy anymore either."
She reached out her hand, her small palm covering the back of my hand, her voice soft but carrying strength, "Mommy, I'll work hard to grow up quickly, earn lots and lots of money, become really really capable, and then protect Mommy and love Mommy."
I knew that making a five-year-old child completely give up her longing for fatherly love and make such a decision was cruel.
Milly wasn't a child who understood nothing anymore. She was slowly growing up, slowly seeing the good and bad in this world.
I had to guide her and protect her when these hurts occurred, letting her understand that some people and some relationships weren't worth holding onto and shouldn't become burdens in her growth.
I absolutely could not take her back to that cold, hypocritical, malicious Smith family again.
I grasped her little hand in return and gently squeezed it, my voice somewhat choked, "Good girl, Mommy knows. Mommy loves Milly the most too."
"Mommy, I love you the most too." Milly responded loudly, as if making a vow.
The atmosphere in the car finally relaxed a bit.
Milly even began imagining the future, "When I earn lots of money later, I'll buy Mommy a big villa even bigger and more beautiful than Smith Villa, where only Mommy, Grandma, and I will live, and William and Emily can come visit."
I was amused by her innocent words, and the gloom in my heart dissipated considerably, "Okay, Mommy will wait for Milly to buy Mommy a big villa."
When we got home and parked the car, I held Milly's hand as we went upstairs.
At the door, as I was taking out my key to unlock it, Milly, who had been very quiet, suddenly looked up at me and asked softly, "Mommy, was Mr. Smith really concerned about you back then?"
My heart felt like it had been gently struck by something.
I knew what Milly meant by that.
From her simple child's perspective, when George had rushed over to grab me and nervously asked if I was hurt.
That expression, that tone—it looked like he was genuinely concerned about me.
She had seen that scene, remembered it in her heart, and might even still have a trace of faint hope for that daddy, so faint she might not even be aware of it herself.
But I knew that the object of George's concern wasn't me.