“Ms. Ashley, taking advantage of someone’s kindness is disgraceful.”
My voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly to the ears of the surrounding neighbors.
Ashley's face flushed red and then paled, wanting to say something, but I didn't give her the chance.
"Regarding your lying about your impoverished background and deceiving Jimmy about his property, we have prepared the relevant materials. If you cooperate with the move, we will not pursue your responsibility in this matter."
"But if you refuse, we will take legal action. At that time, you will not only have to return the property, but also bear the corresponding legal responsibility."
Jimmy, suspended in mid-air, was frantic, trying to rush over to protect Ashley, but he repeatedly passed through our bodies, only able to roar at me, "Chrystal, stop! You can't do this to Ashley."
Halfway through his roar, he suddenly stopped, his soul frozen in mid-air, then a faint, fortunate smile appeared on his face.
"I almost forgot, Marci is still with you. That's my and Ashley's child. Everything in the Watts Family will belong to Marci in the future."
I stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to react for a long time.
The child Jimmy and I adopted from the orphanage, the child I doted on for five years, the child I treated like my own—was actually Jimmy and Ashley's biological son?
Countless images uncontrollably flooded my mind.
When tutoring Marci, he cried over math problems. I patiently explained them five times, but he tore up his workbook, yelling, "I don't understand what you are saying!"
When Jimmy got home, he listened to the formula once, understood it, snuggled into his arms and then looked at me, making a face, “Daddy’s a hundred times smarter than you!”
When I told Marci bedtime stories, he always woke up startled, saying, "Mommy, your voice is awful."
But when Jimmy occasionally told him a story, even if it was something he wasn't interested in, he could fall asleep peacefully.
I smiled self-deprecatingly. It turned out that all my attempts to please him, all my tolerance, were one-sided.
The child I doted on for five years, it turned out, had his own biological mother.
So no matter what I did, he always found something wrong with it.
Nothing I did pleased him.
“Ashley is smart enough to keep Marci hidden right under Chrystal’s nose,” Jimmy said smugly.