Chapter 179 He is Not a Stranger
"Thank you," I said, my voice sincere.
For a moment, I wondered if I should tell Jackson about Jack. If anyone had the resources to protect him, to give him opportunities I couldn't, it was Jackson Hayes—and by extension, the Hayes family empire.
---
Outside the hospital building, I carried Jack to the car, settling him into his booster seat.
"Baby, I need you to wait in the car for a minute, okay? Mommy needs to talk to Mr. Bennett about something."
Jack nodded obediently. "Okay, Mommy."
I turned on his favorite cartoon and handed him a lollipop. Within seconds, he was absorbed in the screen.
I closed the car door carefully and walked over to where Ethan stood.
"Ethan," I said.
His lips curved into a smile—small, bitter, laced with something that looked almost like hope.
"Liv," he said quietly. "You haven't called me that in a long time."
I looked away. "Do you think Jackson would like Jack? If I... if I sent him back?"
Ethan's smile faded. "Like him?" He paused. "Jackson didn't even know Jack's mother. No feelings, no connection. And he just got engaged to Miss Cooper from San Diego. If you send Jack back now, you'd blow up his engagement—and his career."
My chest tightened. "So when Jackson came asking for Jack back, that was all fake?"
"I told him to do it," Ethan admitted.
"Why?"
Ethan raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing at his lips. "What do you think?"
I didn't answer. I shouldn't have asked in the first place.
I turned and walked back to the car, sliding into the driver's seat. Jack looked up from his cartoon, his small hand reaching for mine.
"Baby," I said gently, "can you tell me which kid pushed you? And why did he push you?"
Jack's face crumpled immediately. His lower lip trembled.
"Hey, hey," I said quickly, pulling him onto my lap and wrapping my arms around him. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I'll ask your teacher instead, okay?"
Jack opened his mouth, holding up the half-eaten lollipop like he was about to speak—
The car door opened. Ethan slid into the driver's seat.
Jack's mouth snapped shut. He turned his face into my shoulder, suddenly shy.
I glanced at Ethan, then back at Jack. "It's okay," I said softly. "Mr. Bennett's not a stranger. You can talk in front of him."
Ethan turned in his seat, looking back at us. "Your mom's right, buddy. I'm not a stranger. And you know what? If you want, we could even be family someday."
My head snapped toward him.
Ethan's lips quirked. He reached over and ruffled Jack's hair. "Go ahead, Jack. Tell us what happened."
Jack looked up at me, waiting. I nodded.
And then he started talking.
---
There was a boy in his class. A mean boy.
Every time Jack played with a toy, this boy would snatch it away. He didn't even want it—he just didn't want Jack to have it. And sometimes he hit Jack.
Jack lifted his small hand and patted his own cheek. "Like this, Mommy. He hits me here."
My hands curled into fists.
"And here too," Jack added, twisting to point at his back.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to march back into that preschool and drag that little shit out by his ear. But I kept my voice steady.
"From now on," I said firmly, "if any kid hits you or says mean things to you, you come home and tell Mommy right away. Okay?"
Jack nodded seriously. "Okay, Mommy."
"And," I added, my voice harder now, "if someone hits you, you hit them back. If they push you, you push them. Don't just let them hurt you."
Jack's brow furrowed. "But the teacher said we're not allowed to fight. She said we have to tell her instead."
"You did tell her," I said, my jaw tight. "And what happened? Did she stop him?"
Jack shook his head.
"Exactly," I said. "So next time, you hit him back. You make him scared of you. That's the only way he'll stop."
When we arrived at the preschool, Ms. Anna was already waiting at the entrance with Dr. Harris, the principal, and two other administrators. All four of them stood in a neat line.
Dr. Harris stepped forward first. "Ms. Reed, we're so sorry about what happened. This was a serious oversight on our part, and we take full responsibility."
"I want to see the footage," I said flatly.
"Of course. Right this way."
---
The security office was small and dim, monitors lining the walls. Dr. Harris pulled up the footage and pressed play.
I watched in silence.
Jack stood by the slide, small and hesitant.
Then a skinny boy with big ears ran up behind him and smacked the back of his head.
Jack flinched, covering his head with both hands. His face crumpled—confusion, fear.
The boy hit him again. Kicked his leg.
Jack stumbled backward, tears welling up. He didn't fight back. Didn't yell. Just kept retreating.
But the boy followed. Grinning.
Then he shoved Jack—hard.
Jack's head hit the metal frame of the seesaw with a sickening thud.
I felt my nails dig into my palms.
The footage kept playing. Ms. Anna was nowhere to be seen.
I turned to face Ms. Anna directly. "Jack gets bullied regularly in this class. Did you know about it?"
She opened her mouth, then closed it again.
"If you knew," I continued, my voice rising, "why didn't you ever tell me? And if you didn't know, then how the hell are you doing your job?"
Her face went red. "Ms. Reed, I—"
"Save it," I snapped. "I want to know who that boy is. And I want to know why you let this happen."
---
It didn't take long to figure out.
The boy's mother was a friend of Ms. Anna's cousin.
So every time Jack got hurt, Ms. Anna would scold the boy—just enough to look like she cared—but never actually do anything about it. Most of the time, she pretended not to notice at all.
If Jack's head hadn't split open today, she probably would've kept pretending forever.
I felt sick.
"I want a meeting with that boy's parents," I said coldly. "And I want a formal written apology."
Dr. Harris nodded quickly. "Of course. We'll arrange—"
---
By the time we left the preschool, the sun was setting. I found Ethan and Jack in the outdoor play area.
Ethan stood at the bottom of the slide, hands in his pockets. Jack climbed to the top, arms spread wide, laughing as he slid down.
At the last second, Ethan caught him, lifting him into the air.
"Again!" Jack squealed, wrapping his arms around Ethan's neck.
Ethan smiled and carried him back to the ladder.
I stopped walking, just watching them.
And then Jack said it.
"Mr. Bennett," he said, his voice small but hopeful. "Can you be my daddy?"