<h4>Chapter 151: Questions</h4>


    Hailee POV (10 yearster.)


    "Oscar! Oliver! Ozzy!" I called again, louder this time. My voice echoed through the hall, but no reply came.


    I frowned. That was strange. Normally, they would at least shout back ore running—unless, of course, they were up to something. My boys were ten now, and the moment I called their names and they didn’t answer, I knew they were hiding.


    Shaking my head, I marched down the hall toward their rooms. The silence only confirmed my suspicion. I marched to their rooms, pushing open Oliver’s door first. All three of them were there—huddled close, whispering. The second I stepped inside, they scattered like startled wolves. Oliver jumped to his feet, his face guilty. Ozzy scrambled to hide something behind his back, his little fingers shaking. And Oscar... Oscar sat calmly on the edge of the bed, arms crossed, his chin lifted with defiance.


    "What are you hiding?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.


    "Nothing!" Oliver blurted, far too quickly.


    Ozzy’s eyes darted everywhere but mine, his lips pressed tight like he was holding back a secret. Oscar, on the other hand, didn’t flinch. He just stared at me, steady, bold, too much like Nathan for myfort. I crossed my arms. "Tell me the truth. Or I swear, I’ll tell your godfather Frederick."


    Oliver and Ozzy froze instantly, panic shing across their faces. My threat hadnded. But Oscar... he only shrugged, not the least bit afraid. Oliver crumbled first. He pulled something from under the nket and held it out toward me with trembling hands. A smartphone. My brows shot up.


    "And what exactly are you doing with this?"


    Ozzy whispered so softly I almost missed it. "We were... searching."


    "Searching for what?" I pressed, my eyes sweeping over each of them.


    Oliver swallowed hard. "For our father."


    The words struck like lightning. Slowly, I turned to Oscar. He didn’t look guilty. He didn’t look scared. His green eyes stayed locked on mine, steady, unblinking.


    "We deserve to know," he said simply, his voice calm, older than his years.


    I had dreaded this day, the moment my boys would look me in the eye and demand answers I wasn’t ready to give.


    My gaze flicked between them—Oliver biting his lip, guilt all over his face. Ozzy fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, eyes wide, too scared to meet mine. And Oscar... steady, unshaken, so much like Nathan it made my heart twist painfully. I took a slow step forward, my voice firmer than I felt.


    "And what exactly do you think you’ll find on that phone?" I asked, trying so hard to hide my unease.


    Oliver lowered his head. "Anything. A picture, a name... something."


    Ozzy whispered, "We just want to know him." His voice cracked like it was a confession, and I felt my wolf whimper at the raw ache in it.


    But Oscar—he didn’t flinch.


    "You can’t hide him from us forever, Mother," he said tly, his green eyes boring into mine. "We deserve to know who he is. Where he is. Why he’s not here."


    The words cut deep. My hands curled into fists at my sides.


    "Oscar—"


    "No." His voice was steady, stubborn. "You keep telling us to trust you, but you don’t trust us enough to tell us the truth. That’s not fair."


    I let out a long breath, trying to keep my voice calm even though my heart was racing.


    "Why?" I asked, looking at each of them. "Why do you want to meet your father? Hasn’t Frederick done enough? He has been more of a father to you than anyone else could. He never missed a single sports day at school. He taught you how to ride your bikes. He trained you, stood there every time you fell, and picked you up again. He even stays awake helping you with your lessons when you’re tired." I ticked each memory off slowly, forcing them to see it. "Everything a father should do—he has done it."


    For a moment, the room went quiet. Oliver shifted on his feet, his eyes down. Ozzy sniffled, chewing his lip. And Oscar... he just stared, calm as ever. Finally, Oliver spoke, his voice low.


    "We know that. We love him. We appreciate everything he does for us. But..." His eyes lifted to mine, wide and pleading. "We still want to know our father."


    Ozzy nodded quickly, his eyes watery. "Just once. Just to see him. Please, Mama."


    And Oscar, steady as always, added, "It doesn’t matter how much Frederick has done. He’s not our father. We deserve to know the truth."


    My chest ached. I knew this wasn’t a one-time talk. They wouldn’t stop asking. This would continue, and continue, until the truth broke through. So I lied. I swallowed hard, forcing the words past my lips.


    "Your father... he’s dead." The words felt like knives, stabbing me as I spoke. "I didn’t want to hurt you, but you’ll never meet him. He’s gone."


    Oliver’s head snapped up, his face pale. "No!" he shouted. "I don’t believe you! You’re lying!"


    Ozzy’s little body trembled, his lip quivering as tears filled his eyes. "Mama..." he whispered, his voice breaking. "Is it true?"


    But Oscar... Oscar didn’t move. His gaze stayed locked on me, sharp and unconvinced, older than his years.


    "You can’t fool me," he said quietly, but with certainty. "I know he’s alive."


    My breath caught. "Oscar—"


    "I’ve seen you," he cut me off. "I’ve seen you cry at night when you think we’re asleep. I know it’s about him. I know you miss him."


    Tears pricked my eyes, burning hot, but I shook my head. "You don’t understand—"


    "I do," he said firmly. "You miss him, Mama."


    Pain erupted inside me, and the tears finally slipped free. He was wrong though. I didn’t miss one man. I missed three. I wished I could tell the truth. But I couldn’t. Not now. Not when they were still so young. I forced the tears back, shaking my head.


    "No, Oscar. You’re wrong." My voice cracked, but I pushed the lie forward. "I cried because he’s gone. Because your father is dead. That’s the truth."


    For a moment, the room was painfully still. Oliver’s mouth fell open, shock painted all over his face. "No... no, I don’t believe you!" he shouted, his fists balled at his sides.


    Ozzy’s chin trembled, his eyes shiny with tears. He looked so small, so broken, it made my heart bleed. "Mama... please don’t say that..."


    But Oscar—Oscar didn’t even blink. His sharp green eyes stayed locked on me, steady, unshaken.


    "You’re lying," he said tly. "You think you can fool us, but you can’t fool me."


    I flinched. Spirits, sometimes I hated how smart he was, how much of Nathan lived inside him. Before I could lose myself in their faces, in their pain, I reached forward and snatched the smartphone from Oliver’s hand. My heart ached; I hated myself for what I was about to do, but I had no choice.


    "No more of this," I said firmly. "You are banned from using electronics. No phones. No searching. Nothing."


    Oliver’s eyes widened, Ozzy let out a choked sob, and Oscar only narrowed his gaze at me.


    Without another word, I turned on my heel and walked out.


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