Chapter 265

Chapter 265
Anna’s POV
The atmosphere in Brown Manor's study felt heavy as Rachel stood before me, her usual composed expression tinged with concern.

"Ms. Shaw, I've looked into the situation," Rachel reported, standing ramrod straight. "Jack Simpson has recovered. Bradley Murphy has already returned home. Currently, Melissa Dixon is at the hospital looking after Jack."

I drummed my fingers against the mahogany desk, my jaw clenching involuntarily. "Melissa Dixon? Interesting." The pieces were starting to align, but the picture they formed left me unsettled.

Rachel hesitated before continuing, "I have a theory, Ms. Shaw. Perhaps Melissa was targeting Jack specifically, and your involvement was... accidental. You happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

That made a disturbing amount of sense. The whole setup felt amateur—too sloppy for someone of Andre's political cunning.

"Regardless of who orchestrated it," I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous octave, "I'll be having a conversation with Andre and Cynthia. This happened in their home, under their watch."

Morning came with a text from Marcus—he'd arrived safely in Europe. I stared at the screen, mentally composing my response. I mentioned Steven's adjustment, Catherine and Caroline's progress, deliberately omitting any mention of the greenhouse incident. No need to burden him with troubles he couldn't address from across an ocean. Some fires I could extinguish myself.

Walking into the hallway, I caught Catherine's voice drifting from Caroline's room.

"Sweetie, come on, say 'Mommy'," Catherine coaxed, her voice vibrating with hopeful anticipation.

Caroline simply glanced up momentarily before returning to her Rubik's cube, her small fingers working the colored squares with practiced precision. Catherine's shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly before she masked her disappointment with a bright smile.

Noticing me in the doorway, she perked up. "Look at my daughter, such thick hair, and those bright eyes." Her voice swelled with maternal pride. "She totally inherited my great genes."

I couldn't help but smile. "I have a daughter too."

"Yours is still just a little meatball," Catherine shot back with a playful smirk.

"But the cutest meatball ever," I countered.

Our banter continued as Elizabeth and Margaret watched from across the room, their expressions a complex mixture of joy and sorrow. Everyone in Brown Manor now knew Caroline was Catherine's biological daughter. We hadn't explicitly announced it, but some truths need no proclamation.

Breakfast proved unexpectedly revealing. Steven grabbed the last cinnamon roll, and Caroline's gaze followed it with the briefest flicker of interest—a reaction that made Catherine practically vibrate with excitement at detecting her daughter's preference.

"Honey, let's try this. The fruit tart is delicious too," Catherine quickly placed a fruit tart in Caroline's bowl, her voice laced with hopeful anticipation.

Caroline mechanically took a bite, her expression unchanged. The moment hung suspended until Steven, without fanfare, placed his cinnamon roll on Caroline's plate. The gesture, small but significant, sent warmth spreading through my chest.

Caroline stared at the pastry for several long seconds before picking it up and taking a methodical bite.

Catherine beamed, reaching over to ruffle Steven's hair. "Good job, young man. You're being a great big brother."

"Don't touch my hair," Steven protested, his scowl less severe than it would have been days ago.

Catherine ignored his complaint, pinching his cheek lightly. "Acting so cool? Forgot who took you skating yesterday?"

Steven opened his mouth to object, then thought better of it, tolerating the affection with grudging acceptance. My lips curved upward at the sight—the boy was softening, slowly but surely.

Later, as we settled in the living room, Catherine broached a subject I knew had been weighing on her mind.

"Anna, I want Caroline to go to school with Steven," she said, determination hardening her voice. "Steven will be starting second grade after the break, and Caroline is only a bit younger than him, but I think she could handle second grade too."

I frowned, concern creasing my brow. "We don't know yet what grade would be appropriate for Caroline."

What I didn't say aloud was my deeper worry: Caroline's autism and her overwhelming attachment to Catherine. How would she function in a classroom without her mother? The thought of Caroline feeling abandoned or overwhelmed made my stomach clench.

Catherine's eyes flashed with a fierce, protective light. "It's just autism, isn't it? Whatever other children have, my Caroline must have too."

Catherine‘s POV
The school that Marcus found for Steven was a well-known noble primary school in Fengcheng. He donated a sum of money to the school, and Steven didn't even need an interview.

"I'd make a donation too," I heard myself saying, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "A million, ten million, whatever it takes." My voice sounded eerily calm despite the storm churning inside me.

Anna's eyes softened with understanding. "Cathy, Caroline should be in a normal environment. She can attend school while getting the help she needs. I can talk to Skyview Academy's principal—between the Murphy and Shaw names, we'll make it happen."

I nodded gratefully, fingers unconsciously rubbing the edge of my  jacket. She doesn't have an illness. She's just... quiet. My perfect, quiet little girl. The thought of labeling her with a diagnosis made my chest constrict until breathing became a conscious effort.

"Thank you, Annie," I whispered, using the nickname only her closest friends were permitted.

I pulled out two meticulously printed second-grade math tests from my  tote. Steven's expression immediately soured, his eyes practically screaming escaped one prison just to land in another.

"It's just to see where you both are," Anna explained gently, placing the papers before the children. "No pressure."

Steven begrudgingly picked up his pen, but Caroline didn't so much as glance at the test. My heart sank a little deeper.

"Caroline, sweetie, look," I coaxed, keeping my voice light. "Let's try this first question together."

Nothing. Just a fleeting look from those blue eyes—my eyes—before returning to her cube. Each click of the rotating plastic felt like a tiny rejection.

"Well," I forced a laugh, "at least we know she won't be disruptive in class." The joke fell flat even to my own ears.

Anna squeezed my hand. "We'll figure it out. We can consult experts, develop an individualized plan for her."

"I'm fine," I lied, blinking back the sting behind my eyes. "I was prepared for this."

Anna finished grading Steven's paper with a raised eyebrow. "Sixty-six percent," she murmured thoughtfully, tapping her manicured nail against the desk. "No wonder Marcus went straight for the donation option."

The door opened with a soft knock, and Lily appeared with perfect posture. "Mr. Sforza is here to see Ms. Murphy," she announced.

My hands froze mid-shuffle of the test papers. The blood in my veins turned to ice water.

"Everard Sforza?" I managed to keep my voice steady, though my pulse thundered in my ears. "What could he possibly want?"