Did she really have no choice but to surrender to Timothy, to ept 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 hade to a stop.


    She 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 She, are you okay? This is all my fault. I shouldn''t have asked you to ride with me-the ship went so high, I was terrified myself."


    Timothy unbuckled his seatbelt, his eyes gentle. "Are you hurt?"


    "Timothy, I... my legs... I can''t seem to stand up..."


    She''s gaze happened tond on Jessica just then. With a practiced flutter of hershes, she rolled her eyes back and fainted on the spot.


    "Miss She!"


    "She!"


    Father and son called out together, their concern written all over their faces.


    Timothy wasted no time. He undid She''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, She limp in his arms, moving with urgent purpose.


    Henry, in a panic, half-ran to keep up, choking back tears. "Dad, Miss She''s going to be okay, right?"


    "She''ll be fine," Timothy said, his voice unwavering, though there was tension in his eyes.


    He nced up-and there was Jessica.


    His arms tightened reflexively around She, 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 She''s passed out? Can''t this wait until we get home tonight? What if you dy 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 themand with a hard edge.


    Jessica clenched her jaw, refusing to budge.


    She could see She was perfectly fine-just a little pale from the ride. Jessica had watched closely: She had smirked at her before fainting so theatrically. She 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 I be here? You''re the mighty CEO of Lawson Group, handling your private affairs with such underhanded tactics-aren''t you afraid of being aughingstock if word gets out?"


    "And another thing," she added, her eyes flicking to the limp She 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 I was sick, you didn''t look after me. Miss She spoke up for you— even told me not to be mad at you. And now she''s fainted, and you''re using her? You really disappoint me."


    Timothy''s eyes raked over Jessica, his voiceced with scorn. "Didn''t you have plenty of pride this morning? You stormed out without a backward nce. But now, for Herbert''s sake, you''re willing to swallow your pride?"