<h4>Chapter 155: Caught</h4>


    Hailee’s POV


    "Goodnight, boys," I whispered after leaning down to kiss each of their cheeks. They murmured it back, quiet, half-hearted, their little faces turned away from me. My chest squeezed so tightly I thought I wouldn’t be able to breathe. Since two days ago—since that talk—they had been giving me nothing but cold shoulders and curt answers. It hurt. Moon above, it hurt more than anything. My boys, my treasures, treating me like I was the enemy. Frederick had tried to reassure me, saying children were quick to forgive, that they would get over it soon. And maybe he was right. But still... this was different. My boys never stayed angry at me for more than an hour. And now? Two days had passed. Two long, aching days of silence. It was a bitter pill to swallow.


    I pulled the nket up over them, brushing back Oscar’s fiery red hair, smoothing Oliver’s, pressing my hand gently against Ozzy’s chest just to feel it rise and fall. My throat ached as I forced myself to turn away. Back in my room, I changed,y down, closed my eyes—yet sleep refused toe. My mind reyed every little moment, every word they had thrown at me. We won’t eat until you take us to our dad. Tears burned in my eyes. I rolled over, then rolled back. I couldn’t stand the silence. Finally, I gave in, pushing the nket aside and slipping quietly out of bed.


    Maybe if I checked on them once more, my heart would ease. I strolled down the hall, the floor cool beneath my feet, the house quiet except for the soft hum of the night. I reached their door, turned the handle slowly, and eased it open. The dim light from the hallway spilled inside—just enough for me to see.


    My breath caught. Oscar wasn’t asleep. He sat upright in bed, the nket pooled at his waist. A small phone glowed in his hands, lighting up his green eyes. And he was talking. Whispering into it. "I believe you are Nathan," I heard him say softly, his voice low, too low.


    For a heartbeat, my world tilted. My stomach dropped so violently I had to grip the doorframe to keep myself steady. Who was on the other end of that line? I stepped inside quickly, my panicked voice rising. "Oscar! What are you doing?!"


    My feet moved before I even thought. I rushed forward, my eyes catching the faint glow of the screen in Oscar’s hands. I leaned down, snatched the phone out of his little grip. One nce—and my blood ran cold. The number... it was Nathan’s.


    My heart mmed against my ribs, my throat tightening. The phone buzzed again in my hand, his number lighting up over and over. A call. Another. Another. My eyes widened in horror. "Oscar!" My voice cracked, sharp and trembling all at once. "Who were you calling? How—how did you get his number?!"


    Oscar’s green eyes met mine, stubborn but nervous. Oliver and Ozzy sat up quickly, guilt written all over their little faces. Oliver’s sea-blue eyes filled with nervousness as he whispered, "We... we found it in your diary, Mama. His number was there. With other numbers. We picked it out."


    I froze, my whole body going cold. My diary... I’d been careless. Too careless. My voice dropped lower, harsher. "And this phone? Where did you get it?"


    Ozzy, calm and steady as always, lifted his chin. "We bought it, Mama. With the upkeep Godfather gave us. We saved it. We needed it."


    My mouth fell open, panic roaring inside me. My hands shook as Nathan’s call lit the screen again. The sound of it made my knees weak. "No..." I whispered, my chest rising and falling too fast. "You don’t know what you’ve done."


    Oscar’s little voice came firm, defiant. "We just wanted to know if he was our father."


    Tears stung my eyes, but fear outweighed everything else. With a sob caught in my throat, I held the phone tight, pressed down hard, and switched it off. But I didn’t stop. I pulled the SIM free with trembling fingers. Before any of them could protest, before my heart could betray me—I snapped it in two. The crack echoed in the room, final, brutal.


    The boys gasped, their little faces pale with shock. "You are in trouble," I whispered, my voice shaking with both fury and fear. "Do you hear me? Big trouble."


    I couldn’t stay another second. My chest felt like it was going to explode. Clutching the broken pieces in my hand, I spun and stormed out of the room, my bare feet pounding down the hall. There was only one ce I could go. Frederick.


    I didn’t even think; I just stormed down the hallway, the broken SIM still clenched in my palm. My chest was tight, panic wing at me. If Nathan kept calling back, if he suspected—Moon above, everything could fall apart. I didn’t even knock. I shoved Frederick’s door open.


    And froze. He was on the bed, his broad shoulders tense, his hand stroking his dick, his head thrown back. A low, rough sound filled the room, my name spilling from his lips in a moan. "Hailee..." he groaned, his voice deep with pleasure.


    My breath caught in my throat, my eyes widening as the air fled my lungs. Shock rooted me where I stood. Frederick’s eyes snapped open. The second he saw me, he stilled, his chest heaving, his hand falling away. For a long, burning moment, neither of us spoke. The room felt too small, the air too heavy, shame and awkwardness tangling between us.


    I finally found my voice, though it came out cracked. "F-Frederick..." He didn’t look away. His jaw clenched, his eyes dark, fierce, unashamed even as his voice came out rough. "You should have knocked," he murmured and began covering himself. Which was rather toote.


    I swallowed hard, my pulse racing in my ears. "I—I didn’t mean to..." My fingers tightened around the broken SIM in my hand. "The boys... they—" But the words tangled on my tongue, drowned out by the weight of what I had just seen.