Chapter 149

Chapter 149

"Mommy."

The timid voice came from the doorway. Yara stood there in a pink princess dress, hesitating, watching Cordelia with wide, uncertain eyes.

Cordelia frowned. She glanced past Yara instinctively—no one behind her. "What are you doing here?"

Yara caught the unwelcoming edge in her tone. Her eyes reddened. She dropped her gaze and mumbled, "Daddy said... said you got hurt. I was worried about you."

Cordelia realized she'd been too harsh. She softened and beckoned. "Come here."

Yara obeyed, padding over. Her big, grape-dark eyes fixed on the bandaged hands. Her small brow creased. "Mommy, does it hurt?"

The genuine worry on that little face melted something in Cordelia's chest.

She shook her head. "Mommy's fine. But tell me—how did you get here?"

A child couldn't have come this far alone. Nathan must have brought her. But where was he?

Yara looked up at her, hesitant, as if afraid of saying the wrong thing.

Cordelia coaxed her gently. "It's okay. Just tell me the truth."

"Daddy drove me," Yara said quietly. "He's waiting outside the hospital. Do you... want to see Daddy?"

Hope flooded the little girl's face with those last words.

So Nathan had gotten smarter—staying out of sight this time instead of barging in.

But Cordelia didn't want to see him. She shook her head. "No."

The light in Yara's eyes dimmed instantly. She lowered her head, her expression unreadable.

Something felt off. The bratty spark Cordelia was used to—gone. This quiet, withdrawn version of Yara wasn't like her at all.

Cordelia rested her hand lightly on Yara's shoulder. "You seem upset. What's going on?"

Yara looked up at her, wavering, then blurted out, "Mommy, are you going to have other kids besides me?"

Cordelia blinked. Her first instinct was that Nathan had put this in her head.

Her expression hardened. "What did your father say to you?"

Yara shook her head quickly. "No—it wasn't Daddy. It has nothing to do with him."

Then she stalled again, dropping her gaze into silence.

Cordelia didn't like this—the halting, swallowing-her-words version of Yara.

The girl had always been willful, yes, but she'd been bold and unafraid to speak her mind. This timid creature was almost unrecognizable.

Cordelia tilted Yara's chin up gently.

"Yara, no matter what—I'm your mother. You never have to be afraid of saying the wrong thing to me."

Emboldened, Yara bit her lip, glanced at Cordelia, and plunged ahead. "I saw... Mommy was being nice to that boy just now. Is he going to take my place? Will he be the one Mommy loves most?"

The anxious look on Yara's face caught Cordelia off guard—and sent a flare of anger through her.

Had Nathan done this on purpose?

Was he using their daughter to guilt-trip her?

Yara saw Cordelia's face darken and immediately shook her head. "D-Daddy didn't mean to—it was me. I wanted to see for myself."

It didn't matter whether she was being unfair to Nathan or not. Bringing Yara here and letting her watch Cordelia's life with someone else—that was cruel to the child, regardless of intent.

He wasn't a good father. He didn't know how to be one.

Cordelia smoothed her expression so she wouldn't frighten Yara. She kept her voice steady. "I already told you—no matter what happens between your father and me, I will always be your mother. But Yara, you know that Daddy and Mommy are divorced."

Yara burst into tears. "Can't you get back together? For me? Mommy, please—just be with Daddy again?"

A child didn't come up with words like that on her own. Nathan had coached her.

The thought of Nathan weaponizing their daughter to soften her made Cordelia's blood boil.

But she would never compromise for the sake of manipulation.

Her composure returned. Her voice lost its warmth. "Yara, if you want to live with me, I can fight your father for custody. But he and I are never getting back together."

"You don't love me anymore!" The accusation shot out of Yara like a reflex. Then came the look—resentful, wounded, accusing.

Cordelia went rigid. Fury surged through her. "Who taught you to say that?"

No child naturally knew how to use words like weapons. Someone was pulling strings.

Yara said nothing. She just cried—louder and louder—until the noise brought Logan in from next door.

"What's going on?" He stepped inside, saw Yara standing there sobbing, her small body heaving, and swore under his breath.

Nathan. That bastard had sent Yara in while Logan was gone.

"Daddy, she's so ugly when she cries." Rhys's small, unimpressed voice piped up from Logan's side.

Yara had been crying with full dramatic abandon, banking on sympathy. The taunt snapped her eyes open. She stared at the boy standing next to Logan.

Rhys stared right back, radiating pure disdain.

When their eyes met, he didn't flinch. He glared harder.

Yara's face froze. Her crying stuttered to a halt. She gaped at him.

Rhys stuck his tongue out at her.

She'd never been treated like this. Already heartbroken, now provoked—her wailing erupted louder than ever.

Rhys clicked his tongue. "Even uglier now."

Logan's face seized. He clapped a hand over Rhys's mouth. "Enough. Not another word."

"Yara."

The crying stopped mid-sob. Yara blinked and looked at Cordelia.

Cordelia's expression was cold. Distant. "You've seen me. I'm fine. Go home now."

"Yeah," Rhys chimed in, thoroughly unhelpful. "Mommy has me to take care of her. She doesn't need you."

Yara looked at Rhys's smug face. Then at Cordelia's frozen one. She stamped her foot. "I don't want you as my mommy anymore! I'm going to make Ms. Johnson my mommy instead!"

People said children didn't know any better—that they were just being innocent. But Cordelia knew the truth. Children understood exactly which words cut deepest.

The warmth drained from Cordelia's eyes. Her pallor made her features look carved from marble. "Suit yourself. If you want her as your mother—or if your father decides to remarry—none of that has anything to do with me."

Yara had meant to provoke her. She hadn't expected Cordelia to accept it so calmly.

Confusion flickered across the little girl's face. Her mouth opened—searching for the words that would unlock her mother's heart—but when she saw Cordelia turn her face away, cold as stone, she froze.

"I hate you!"

She hurled the words and ran.