Chapter 229 Cutting in Line
Chapter 229 Cutting in Line
"You can sleep with Mom sometimes, but not every night," Susan said. "Liam is a big boy now. You need to learn to sleep on your own. All the kids at kindergarten sleep by themselves, right?"
Liam dropped his head and let out a sulky little "oh."
His small shoulders slumped, and he looked like a wilted cabbage.
Seeing his unhappy face, Susan felt a pang in her heart.
She quickly changed the subject, her voice bright and cheerful: "Mom's taking you to the amusement park today. How does that sound?"
Liam's eyes lit up instantly, shining like the little nightlight by his bed. "Really? The amusement park?"
His mood flipped like a light switch — one second stormy, the next completely sunny.
"Really," Susan said with a smile. "Think of it as making up for the spanking you got just now."
She pinched his little nose. Liam broke into a teary smile, jumped off Susan's lap, and ran upstairs barefoot to change his clothes.
Susan let out a breath and turned to look at Sean. He was still standing there with a dark expression on his face.
She walked over and said quietly, "Alright, don't stay mad at a little kid. He doesn't know anything — he's only five. He doesn't even understand what marriage means."
Sean let out a grunt but said nothing.
His expression was still sour, but most of the anger had faded from his eyes.
"Come with us," Susan said, tugging his hand. "Take Liam to the amusement park. You come too. Make it up to him, or he'll hold a grudge against you."
Sean looked down at her hand, then turned his own hand over and held hers. His expression finally softened a little.
The three of them got ready and drove to the amusement park.
Sean drove, Susan sat in the passenger seat, and Liam was buckled into his car seat in the back, chattering nonstop the whole way there.
The amusement park was packed on the weekend, full of parents with their kids.
Colorful balloons floated through the air, cheerful music poured from the speakers, and the sweet smell of popcorn and cotton candy drifted everywhere.
Liam was beyond excited. He grabbed Susan's hand and pulled her from one thing to the next, wanting to try everything he saw.
"Mom! I want to go on that!" Liam pointed at a roller coaster nearby.
It wasn't a particularly intense ride — it was a family version designed for young kids too. The track wasn't very high, and it didn't go very fast. The colorful cars climbed slowly up the track and slid back down, drawing shrieks and laughter from the riders.
"Okay, let's go get in line," Susan said, taking Liam's hand and heading toward the roller coaster.
They waited in line for about twenty minutes. They were almost at the front.
Liam stood on his tiptoes, craning his neck to count how many people were ahead of them. Susan pulled a water bottle out of her bag and handed it to him.
Sean stood behind them, his hand resting on Susan's shoulder.
Just then, a woman dragged a boy of about seven or eight and pushed her way in from the side, cutting straight to the front of the line.
The woman was wearing a loud, busy-patterned dress, her hair permed into big waves, her makeup heavy and thick.
The boy she was pulling along was chubby, a full head taller than Liam, with an arrogant look on his face.
Liam frowned and said loudly, "Excuse me, you just cut in line."
His voice was clear and sharp. Everyone nearby heard it, and all eyes turned to the mother and son.
The woman looked back, looked Liam up and down, then glanced at Susan and Sean, and rolled her eyes. "Mind your own business, kid. We're in a hurry. What's the big deal if you wait a little longer?"
"Cutting in line is wrong," Liam said seriously. "My teacher taught us — you have to wait your turn. Everyone else is lining up. Why don't you?"
The woman's patience ran out. Her face hardened and her tone turned sharp. "Why are you so nosy? I'm standing here, so what? You're just a little kid — you think you can tell adults what to do?"
The boy next to her was bigger than Liam by a whole size, stocky and solid, wearing a T-shirt with a cartoon print on it, holding a half-eaten ice cream cone.
He looked down at Liam with his nose in the air and said smugly, "So what if my mom cut in line? You gonna do something about it? I'm telling you — I'll stand wherever I want. You can't do anything about it."
Liam's little face went tight, and his hands balled into fists.
Susan could feel her son's small hand trembling slightly.
She held Liam's hand and looked at the mother and son calmly. "Ma'am, cutting in line really isn't polite. And the way your son is talking — don't you think that's a problem? Everyone here is waiting their turn. This isn't a good example to set for your child."
The boy spun around and glared at Susan, getting even more brazen.
He licked his ice cream and pointed at Susan with his cream-covered finger. "So what if I'm rude? What are you going to do about it? You're just a woman who — my mom says people like you are all fake. Stop acting so righteous!"
Before he could finish, the boy suddenly shoved Liam as hard as he could.
The push was violent and vicious — way more force than any kid horsing around would use.
Neither Susan nor Sean had time to react. No one expected a seven- or eight-year-old to hit that hard.
Liam's small body flew backward and hit the concrete ground hard, his head smacking the pavement with a dull thud.
"Liam!" Susan screamed and rushed over to scoop him up.
Her hands were shaking. Her whole body was shaking.
Liam lay there stunned for a second, then burst into loud crying.
Blood from the back of his head ran down through his hair and dripped onto his white T-shirt, shockingly red.
Susan felt like someone had grabbed her heart and squeezed it. She could barely breathe.
She knelt on the ground, holding Liam, crying. "I'm sorry, baby. It's my fault. I didn't protect you."
Sean looked at his son — blood on his face, crying on the ground — and felt something ignite inside him. The veins at his temples stood out.
He hadn't wanted to get involved in a fight with some woman and her kid. He was a grown man — if he stepped in, he'd be the one who couldn't explain himself no matter what.
But this boy had actually put his hands on Liam. And hit him that hard. He couldn't let it go.
His dress shoes hit the ground with heavy, deliberate steps.
Susan picked Liam up and quickly grabbed Sean's arm. She could feel the muscles in his arm hard as stone.
"Don't," she said, her voice shaking.
"He—" Sean's eyes had gone red.
"I said don't." Her voice was still trembling, but her tone was firm. "If you hit him, we'll never hear the end of it. Let me handle this."
She handed Liam to Sean, stepped forward, and shoved the boy.
It was a measured push — not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to send him stumbling backward and landing on his backside.
The boy sat on the ground, stunned for a second, then immediately started fake-crying at the top of his lungs.
And the moment Susan had moved to push him, his mother had already whipped out her phone, pointed the camera straight at Susan, and started shrieking: "She hit my child! Everyone look! This woman is attacking us! She hit my son! He's only seven years old! A grown adult hitting a child! Is there no justice in this world!"