A car accident had kept me in the hospital for three months.

On the day I was finally discharged and fully recovered, I bought my daughter’s favorite toy, wanting to surprise her.

But when I returned home, I found a strange boy sitting in my daughter’s room.

Still puzzled, I heard a woman say to me, “Who are you? Why are you in my house? Leave right now, or I’ll call the police.”

Looking around at the familiar furnishings, I felt a wave of confusion.

Just then, the door opened and my husband, Ethan Carter, came in from outside.

I was about to ask what was going on when the boy suddenly rushed over, grabbed Ethan’s leg, and shouted, “Dad, this woman is a thief! Get her out of here!”

…

When Ethan saw me, he looked a little guilty.

I asked coldly, “What’s going on? Is he your son?”

Ethan patted the boy’s head affectionately and said, “Olivia, don’t overthink it. Rachel Moore is my high school classmate. She just returned to the United States, and it’s not easy for her to raise a kid on her own. Since we have a spare room, I let them stay here for a while.”

“This boy’s never had a father figure. I played with him a few times, and he just started calling me ‘Dad.’”

“So I went along with it and became his godfather.”

Ethan gave the boy’s head another pat. “Call her ‘Aunt.’”

The boy said defiantly, “I’m not calling her that. Who is this woman? Dad, tell her to leave. I don’t like her.”

Ethan didn’t scold him, nor did he bother to explain who I was.

He just said to me, “He’s a kid. You haven’t spent much time together, so of course he’s a little hostile. Give it some time.”

Then, without hesitation, he grabbed the gift I had bought for Sophie and shoved it into the boy’s hands. “This is from your aunt.”

I snatched it back immediately. “Ethan Carter, what are you doing? I bought this for Sophie.”

Ethan frowned. “Olivia, don’t be so petty.”

Before he finished speaking, the boy suddenly ran over and bit me hard on the arm.

I screamed from the pain, and he pushed me forcefully, snatching the toy away.

Holding it high, he said smugly, “Dad said this toy is mine.”

I said with a cold face, “Put it down.”

But Ethan stepped in front of the boy, looking displeased. “Olivia, how old are you? Why are you stooping to a child’s level?”

“Rachel and her son are guests in our home. You’re really making me lose face with your attitude.”

Just then, I heard a loud crack from behind him.

I pushed past Ethan and saw the boy slam the toy onto the floor.

The crystal wind-up violin shattered into pieces, fragments and gears scattering everywhere.

The boy grinned with satisfaction. “If I can’t have it, then no one can.”

I stared at the broken toy, my eyes stinging.

It was a limited edition—Sophie had wanted it for a long time.

It had taken me a lot of effort and connections to get it.

Ethan and Rachel, however, were hugging the boy, checking him over to make sure he wasn’t hurt.

Rachel looked up at me and said softly, “Olivia, you shouldn’t have bought a gift like this. Lucas is a bit mischievous—what if he got hurt?”

I said coldly, “This wasn’t even for him. And now that he’s broken it, you’ll need to replace it.”

Rachel’s eyes welled up instantly. “I’m sorry, it’s Lucas’s fault. He shouldn’t have taken it.”

That pitiful look of hers made Ethan’s face soften with sympathy.

He waved his hand and said, “Replace it? It’s just a toy. Besides, it’s not Lucas’s fault—I told him to take it.”

Then Ethan glanced at me with displeasure. “Go get the broom and dustpan. Clean this up—what if the kid gets hurt?”

I didn’t move.

My gaze shifted toward my daughter’s bedroom.

The door was wide open, and I saw that all of Sophie’s cherished toys had been destroyed.

Many dolls had their heads twisted off and were carelessly thrown on the floor.

Trying to keep my temper in check, I asked, “Where’s Sophie?”

Ethan’s expression turned slightly unnatural. “She went to do some part-time work.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “Part-time work? Ethan Carter, it’s nearly a hundred degrees outside—what exactly did you have her doing?”

He said, “She wanted to go herself.”

Rachel added from the side, “Sophie’s such a thoughtful kid. She saw Lucas arrive and voluntarily gave up her room for him.”

“She even wanted to save up some pocket money to buy Lucas a gift.”

At that moment, the front door opened.

Sophie walked in, drenched in sweat as if she’d just been pulled from a pool.

Her face was bright red, and she looked dizzy from the heat.

With a heavy backpack on her shoulders, she said timidly, “Dad, there weren’t many people buying water today. I only made five dollars.”

She walked over to Lucas and shoved a roll of damp bills—soaked through with sweat—into his hands.

“This money is for you. Can I have my things back now?”

My eyes welled up immediately.

“Sophie!” I cried, my voice breaking.

She turned to look at me, her eyes blank for two or three seconds, and then suddenly burst into tears.

I pulled her into my arms, holding her tight, trying to comfort her.

When her sobs finally subsided, I asked, “Why did you give Lucas money?”

Before Sophie could answer, Ethan said, “On Lucas’s first day here, Sophie pushed him over and scraped his arm.”

“She’s been feeling guilty and wanted to make it up to him.”

Hearing this, Sophie lowered her head and stayed quiet.

I spoke softly to her. “Sophie, tell me—why did you push Lucas?”

“Mom’s back now. You can say it. No one will dare bully you.”

Ethan stepped forward and said, “Honey, you just got out of the hospital. You must be tired. Go rest.”

I gave a cold laugh. “Ethan Carter, do you think I’m stupid?”

“I’ve been back this long—have you once cared about my recovery?”

“And now you suddenly want me to rest? You’re just worried about what she might say, aren’t you?”

His face darkened. “Olivia, I’m just concerned about you. Why are you overthinking this?”

I ignored him and gently stroked Sophie’s hair.

In a low voice, she said, “The first day Lucas came, he tried to take your necklace.”

“You said it was Grandma’s keepsake.”

“I wanted it back, but he wouldn’t give it to me. When I tried to grab it, I accidentally pushed him over.”

“Dad said I had to give him the necklace to make up for it.”

“But that would make you so sad, Mom.”

“I begged Dad for a long time, and he finally said I could work part-time to earn enough to buy it back.”

I was so angry I could barely speak.

I glared at Ethan for a long moment before forcing the words through clenched teeth: “Ethan Carter, how could you?”

He replied indifferently, “Olivia, Sophie’s much older than Lucas. Can’t she act like a big sister and be more accommodating?”

“She’s spoiled by you. Sending her to sell water was just a way to toughen her up.”

“Only by experiencing hardship can she grow.”

Suddenly, I didn’t want to waste another word on him.

I simply asked, “Where’s the necklace?”

Ethan walked over and said in a low voice, “Olivia, you’re not seriously thinking about taking the necklace back, are you?

I’ve already promised it to Lucas.

If you go back on your word now, it’ll make me look bad.”

I said coldly, “That was my mother’s keepsake.

Either you return it to me, or I’m calling the police.”

Ethan’s face immediately darkened.

He gave me an irritated look, then turned to the boy. “Lucas, be good. We don’t want her necklace—it belonged to someone dead, it’s bad luck.”

I was shaking with anger.

As soon as Lucas heard it had belonged to someone deceased, he yanked it out of his pocket and threw it to the floor.

Sophie ran over, picked it up with care, and after checking it over, beamed at me. “Mom, it’s not broken.”

Seeing her innocent smile made my throat tighten.

I looked straight at Rachel and her son. “This is my house. I’m asking you both to leave.”

Rachel’s expression faltered, and she looked toward Ethan.

Ethan frowned. “Olivia, is this really necessary? She’s a single mom—where can she go with a kid?

Besides, it’s not like we don’t have room. Why make things so hard on her?”

I said, “This house is mine. She’s leaving today.

Ethan Carter, don’t take me for a fool.

If they don’t go today, we’ll just go straight to filing for divorce.”

At the word divorce, Ethan’s composure cracked.

He glanced uncertainly at Rachel.

Just then, Lucas let out an exaggerated “Ouch!” and plopped down on the floor, clutching his foot and wailing.

Ethan, torn between worry and irritation, said to me, “Olivia, I told you to clean this mess earlier. Now the kid’s hurt because of it.”

The boy was crying loudly, but I didn’t see a single tear.

He kept holding his foot, claiming he’d stepped on something, but there wasn’t even a drop of blood.

Rachel, cradling him, said tearfully, “Ethan, don’t fight over this. We’ll just leave right away.”

She tried to help him up, but the moment she moved, he cried out again.

Without even looking at me, Ethan said to her, “If Lucas is hurt and can’t walk, then just stay here. It’s fine.”

After reassuring Rachel, Ethan turned to me. “Olivia, what’s the harm in letting them stay a day or two? The boy’s injured—do you really have the heart to throw them out?”

He took my arm, steering me toward the bedroom. “You just got out of the hospital, your body’s still weak. Get some rest.”

But when I looked at the bed, the sheets were a tangled mess, and inside them was a woman’s undergarment.

My stomach turned.

Ethan awkwardly pulled the blanket over it, as if to hide the evidence.

I walked straight to the guest room instead—but as soon as I stepped inside, a foul smell hit me.

In the corner were crumpled tissues tossed carelessly on the floor.

It didn’t take much to understand what that meant.

I turned around, took Sophie’s hand, and said, “We’re leaving. This place is filthy.”

Ethan grabbed my arm. “Olivia, it’s not what you think.”

Expressionless, I said, “Ethan Carter, I’m giving you one day to deal with them.

And as for us—we need to have a serious talk.”

I yanked my arm free and walked straight out.

On the way down the stairs, Sophie whispered, “Mom, are you going to get a divorce?”

I was silent for a moment before saying softly, “No. Mom and Dad will always be here for you.”