Chapter 201 From Now On, I'll Take Care of Her
Charles remained silent.
Amelia continued, "I know you still have feelings for Janice. As for me, I want to scold her too, but she was our daughter for quite some time. I'm disappointed in her, but I also hope she's doing well. However, you're married now. If Zoey doesn't like her, you need to keep your distance. Don't you agree?
How about this—you tell me where she's living now, and I will go see her. If anything happens in the future, I'll help her instead."
Charles thought for a moment before giving Amelia the contact information.
Afterward, he looked at the divorce agreement again and sent Zoey a message: [Zoey, stop being childish. I don't agree to a divorce.]
In his eyes, Zoey was simply throwing a tantrum.
He waited for a while, but Zoey never replied.
……
Amelia called Mrs. Turner. "How is Zoey doing now? This is all Charles's fault. Charles is just too loyal. That ex-girlfriend of his isn't just an ex-girlfriend—she used to be my goddaughter. I've already told him he can't see her anymore. If she needs anything, she should come to me instead."
Mrs. Turner replied, "Zoey can be a bit stubborn, but this time she seems really determined to divorce. Why don't you have Charles try to win her back? If that doesn't work, there's really nothing I can do. I don't want Zoey to suffer."
"Alright, alright. I'll make sure Charles does everything he can to win her back. Don't worry."
After hanging up, Amelia sighed.
Juliana had been spending a lot of time with Nason lately and rarely visited her her godmother anymore. Charles didn't live with her, and Wentworth and his wife had gone to the Southwest.
She suddenly felt like an empty nester.
At eight that evening, Amelia changed her clothes and went to where Janice lived.
Janice actually owned a house in Phoenix City. However, it had been vacant for so long that when a demolition project took place years ago, the developer couldn't locate the owner and contacted Amelia instead.
At the time, Amelia was still furious with Janice, so she told the developer to leave Janice's parents' house alone. She didn't want to deal with it.
Whether it was due to malicious intent or simply construction plans, the house eventually became a holdout property, surrounded by roads on all sides. From both a practical and feng shui standpoint, it was no longer suitable for living.
So when Janice returned to the country, she turned to Charles for help.
Charles owned many properties. He found a relatively remote villa for Janice and her child to live in.
When Amelia arrived, a nanny was inside playing with Janice's daughter.
The little girl sat on the floor with her back to the door, quietly stacking blocks. When someone entered, she didn't even look up.
Amelia had originally thought she wouldn't feel anything toward Janice's daughter. After all, the child had foreign blood and had nothing to do with the Gonzaga family.
But when she saw the girl's face, the child happened to glance at her.
Children with autism often seem to fall at two extremes—angels and devils separated by only a thin line. Janice's daughter was clearly the former.
The little girl had delicate features, chestnut curls, and a butterfly hair clip. She wore a princess dress. At first glance, she looked like a Barbie doll in a toy store window.
Something in Amelia's hardened heart softened instantly.
She asked the nanny, "What's her name?"
"Her name is Jane," the nanny replied.
"Is it usually just the two of you at home?"
"Not always. She goes to a special school for two hours every day." The nanny didn't recognize Amelia, but Amelia carried herself with such authority and elegance that the nanny had let her in without hesitation.
Amelia crouched down and began building blocks with Jane.
Jane glanced at her again.
Perhaps it was just Amelia's imagination, but it almost looked like the little girl smiled.
Children with autism don't smile much, but Jane had naturally upturned lips, so even the slightest movement made her appear to be smiling.
"Jane, what's this?" Amelia pointed to a little elephant printed on one on the block.
Jane didn't respond.
The nanny explained, "She doesn't really interact with people, but she loves listening to music and can play the piano. She's actually quite good."
With that, the nanny picked Jane up and carried her over to the piano. In her mind, if a child had talent, it was only natural to show it off.
Jane was clearly uncomfortable being moved so suddenly, but she didn't throw a tantrum. The child seemed almost devoid of emotions.
The nanny pressed a few piano keys.
It was as if a switch had been flipped.
Jane immediately sat upright at at the piano and began to play.
Her small fingers slowly performed Mozart's piece in A Major.
Although her fingering wasn't particularly nimble yet, the music felt pure—like it came straight from a child's inner world.
Amelia listened, completely captivated.
It had been a long time since she'd been so absorbed in piano music.
As she listened, the front door opened.
Then a surprised voice sounded.
"Mom… Mrs. Gonzaga?!"
Janice had just returned from work.
Amelia glanced at her.
They hadn't seen each other for ten years. Janice looked much more mature now. There was a trace of weariness on her face from the hardships of life, yet she was still beautiful—beautiful in a fragile way, like a broken movie heroine.
No wonder Charles still went out of his way to help her.
Jane was still playing the piano and showed no sign of stopping anytime soon.
Amelia said calmly, "Come outside with me. I need to talk to you."
The two of them stepped in the small garden outside the villa.
"Mrs. Gonzaga..." Janice knew she had wronged the Gonzaga family years ago, so she didn't dare meet Amelia's gaze.
Amelia studied her quietly.
Despite all the resentment she had carried over the years, the moment they met again, much of that hatred seemed to fade away.
She remembered how cautious Janice had been when she first came to the Gonzaga family.
She remembered Janice performing at school and asking if she could come watch.
She remembered Janice winning awards and bringing her a gift.
She had truly treated her like her own daughter.
When a daughter makes a mistake, a mother scolds her—that's all. How could she really hold a grudge?
"What kind of work are you doing now?" Amelia asked.
"I'm a planner at a music company," Janice replied.
"Is it difficult?"
"Not really. The pay is decent—enough to support Jane and me."
"What about Jane's condition?"
"She was normal until she turned two. After that, she gradually stopped talking. Now she occasionally says a few words."
Amelia paused before saying, "You're too busy with work during the day. Send your daughter to my place."
Janice looked at her in shock.
"Mrs. Gonzaga, you don't blame me?"
"I do blame you, I even wanted to strangle you," Amelia said bluntly. "But I feel sorry for your daughter. And I don't want Charles continuing to stay in contact with you. Do you know why?"
Janice lowered her head. "Charles has helped me a few times. He's the only person I could turn to."
"From now on, if you need help, come to me instead," Amelia said. "We were mother and daughter for so many years. You should have come to me."