NovelEndChapter 151
Did she really have no choice but to surrender to Timothy, to accept all his decisions without question?
No. She couldn't just sit back and wait for fate to crush her.
Jessica squared her shoulders and strode toward the pirate ship ride.
By now, after a few minutes, the ride had cto a stop.
Sheila was clutching her chest, her face almost ghostly pale.
Henry, who looked so much like a young Timothy, was gazing at her with open worry and guilt. "Miss Sheila, are
you okay? This is all my fault. | shouldn't have asked you to ride with me-the ship went so high, | was terrified
myself."
Timothy unbuckled his seatbelt, his eyes gentle. "Are you hurt?"
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"Timothy, I... my legs... | can't seem to stand up..."
Sheila's gaze happened to land on Jessica just then. With a practiced flutter of her lashes, she rolled her eyes
back and fainted on the spot.
"Miss Sheila!"
"Sheila!"
Father and son called out together, their concern written all over their faces.
Timothy wasted no time. He undid Sheila's seatbelt and scooped her into his arms, lifting her with effortless
grace—a fairy-tale rescue, so smooth and natural it was impossible not to notice.
He strode off the ride, Sheila limp in his arms, moving with urgent purpose.
Henry, in a panic, half-ran to keep up, choking back tears. "Dad, Miss Sheila's going to be okay, right?"
"She'll be fine," Timothy said, his voice unwavering, though there was tension in his eyes.
He glanced up-and there was Jessica.
His arms tightened reflexively around Sheila, but he didn't slow his pace.
Jessica stepped in front of them, signing, "I need to speak with you."
She didn't want to drag Herbert into this mess. The divorce was between her and Timothy. If he promised not to
take it out on Herbert, she'd leave his life at once.
But before Timothy could respond, Henry's voice cut through the air, cold and sharp with indignation. "Mom,
can't you see Miss Sheila's passed out? Can't this wait until we get htonight? What if you delay her getting
help-can you take that responsibility?"
Timothy seized the opportunity, his tone icy. "Even a six-year-old knows better than this. Move aside!"
He punctuated the command with a hard edge.
Jessica clenched her jaw, refusing to budge.
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She could see Sheila was perfectly fine-just a little pale from the ride. Jessica had watched closely: Sheila had
smirked at her before fainting so theatrically. Sheila was faking.
And yet neither brilliant Timothy nor clever little Henry could see it.
Love really does make men blind.
Frustration simmered inside Jessica as she signed again. "If you hadn't gone after Herbert, would | be here?
You're the mighty CEO of Lawson Group, handling your private affairs with such underhanded tactics-aren't you
afraid of being a laughingstock if word gets out?"
"And another thing," she added, her eyes flicking to the limp Sheila in Timothy's arms, her gestures sharp with
sarcasm. "She's pretending. You honestly can't tell?"
"Mom, what are you talking about!" Henry's small face was screwed up in hurt and anger. "When | was sick, you
didn't look after me. Miss Sheila spoke up for you— even toldnot to be mad at you. And now she's fainted,
and you're accusing her? You really disappoint me."
Timothy's eyes raked over Jessica, his voice laced with scorn. "Didn't you have plenty of pride this morning? You
stormed out without a backward glance. But now, for Herbert's sake, you're willing to swallow your pride?"
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