Violet offered a gentle smile. "Honestly, it''s better if a couple can''t get along that they part ways sooner rather thanter. As for Gwyn, she''ll stay with us from now on."
She was making it clear-graciously, even-that she was willing to ept McNeil and Victoria''s daughter into their home.
Later, once she and McNeil had children of their own, maybe then she''d consider sending Gwh back to Victoria.
Ever since her checkup revealed she couldn''t conceive, Yulia Morris had been helping her, suggesting traditional remedies for infertility. Violet had tried all sorts of treatments and made countless trips to the hospital. Every test result came back normal, and they''d even retrieved her eggs, which were in excellent condition.
Violet was hopeful-she believed she would be able to get pregnant, eventually.
But she hadn''t shared this good news with McNeil yet. She wanted to wait for the perfect moment to surprise him.
McNeil, however, was focused on the present. "Let''s talk about itter."
He frowned at Gwh. "Why are you crying so hard? Did Max pick on you?"
Gwh sniffled, nearly beside herself with frustration. "Max said his Miss Fannie is amazing, and he called me and Ms. Marchand liars and braggarts."
As young as she was, Gwh didn''t think before she spoke. She blurted out everything Max had said to her, not stopping to consider whether she should repeat it in front of Violet and McNeil.
Violet''s expression shifted slightly, but McNeil didn''t take it to heart. To him, it was just typical childhood squabbling-not something to overanalyze.
"If you don''t like it, just keep your distance from Max," he advised. "Girls shouldn''t stir up trouble with boys."
Max''s background was different from Gwh''s. Having lost both parents at a young age, he was extra sensitive always ready to go on the offensive, even against someone as harmless as Gwh.
"Alright, next time Violet teaches me a game, I''m going to beat him," Gwh grumbled, still stewing over her defeat at Max''s hands. "Violet, the game''s finally yable! When we get home, will you help me level up?"
Violet looked surprised. "It''s working now? I thought we couldn''t register an ount?"
Gwh blurted out, "My mom let me use her ount! It''s the very first one- number 001!"
The moment the words left her mouth, she realized her mistake. Oh no. She''d just told Violet about ying with her mom-something she wasn''t supposed to mention.
Gwh risked a cautious nce at Violet, nervous that she might be angry. But she reassured herself: Violet was much more easygoing than her mom-she wouldn''t make a fuss or try to stop her.
Sure enough, Violet wasn''t upset at all. She just smiled and ruffled Gwh''s hair affectionately.
"Is that so? That''s wonderful. We''ll y together when we get home."
McNeil picked Gwh up, his expression inscrutable, but he didn''tment further. Instead, he guided them toward the main entrance.
No sooner had Violet stepped outside than a crowd of fans surged toward her, armsden with flowers. Stunned by the throng, Violet hesitated, but McNeil quickly signaled the security team to shield them as they backed away, careful to keep Gwh from getting jostled.
"Vivian, we''re here to wee you home!" someone shouted.
"You''re amazing, goddess!" another called out.
"There''s someone impersonating you-we''ll get to the bottom of it and clear your name!"
The fans were convinced that Violet was Vivian. Many Form One enthusiasts had watched Violet''s car burst into mes on the track and were devastated- heartbroken, even.
Online, the debate had reached a fever pitch. Some people supported Violet, while others questioned whether she was really Vivian, especially after seeing another "Vivian" with Victoria, the woman who''d driven the Osborn car to victory at the race.
No one knew where Victoria hade from, and since Osborn had failed to inform the race organizers about the midpetition driver switch, their victory was voided, they lost the championship, and the team was pped with a three- year ban.