"So what? I don't want him either! Who needs such a loser dad anyway? Patrick is my real daddy now." Hilary tossed her head and marched into the preschool, smug as could be.
Penelope's jaw tightened. She snatched up a pebble from the roadside, glaring at her sister's retreating back.
But in the end, she set it down.
Daddy had told her—no matter what, Hilary was still her sister. Even if Hilary made her angry, she couldn't hurt her.
From inside the car, Wilfred watched his two daughters.
He sighed quietly.
Hilary's behavior didn't wound him. He felt no grief, no disappointment—only a weary acceptance.
What's gone is gone. Yesterday can't be held.
Pruitt Group headquarters.
Hildegarde had barely stepped into her office when she noticed a lunch box sitting on her desk, decorated with a little heart.
A satisfied smile tugged at her lips.
Of course. Wilfred was just throwing a tantrum. Once he cooled off, he'd come crawling back like he always did.
And here was the proof—a homemade lunch, bright and early.
Same as before. Same as always.
That man couldn't survive without her.
Her phone rang. Patrick's name flashed on the screen.
"Hello? Patrick..."