Ethan froze, caught completely by surprise.

He moved across the room and knelt beside the small boy.

Liam was in cartoon-patterned pajamas, his hair tousled and cheeks damp with tears. He looked tiny and fragile.

Ethan had never seen him like this before.

Isabella always made sure their son was cheerful and well-cared for.

Liam sniffled quietly.

“Henry said Mommy had work and told me to be good and go to sleep. But… I just can’t.”

Ethan reached out, gently stroking the boy’s soft hair.

“She’ll be home soon,” he reassured him.

Liam looked up, his eyes wide with cautious hope.

“Really?”

“Really,” Ethan confirmed with a firm nod.

He picked up the red toy Ferrari from Liam’s hand.

“This is your favorite, isn’t it?”

Liam nodded, a tiny spark returning to his gaze.

Ethan set the car on the floor and gave it a gentle push. It glided smoothly across the carpet.

“Look how fast it goes.”

Liam’s attention shifted entirely to the toy. A small grin appeared as he watched the car roll.

For a while, Ethan sat with him, playing along. Soon, the boy was fully absorbed in his toys, no longer mentioning Isabella.

As Ethan watched him, a complex wave of emotions washed over him.

Outside, the night pressed darkly against the windows.

Isabella sat beside Eleanor’s bed, her eyes fixed on her grandmother’s peacefully sleeping face.

Eleanor’s breathing was slow and steady.

Isabella let out a quiet sigh, though the heaviness in her chest remained.

She had no intention of returning to Hawthorne Residence—a place that felt suffocating, filled with nothing but pain.

All she wanted was to take Eleanor and Liam far away from it all. Somewhere they could live a simple, quiet life together.

The small apartment she rented was modest, but it was a shelter. A safe place.

There, she wouldn’t have to navigate the endless conflicts with the Blackwood family or defend against Sophia’s schemes. It would just be her, Eleanor, and Liam—taking care of each other.

The thought brought a fragile glimmer of hope to her heart.

She picked up her phone and dialed Benjamin’s number.

The ringing tone echoed in the quiet room, making her pulse quicken.

“Benjamin, it’s me.” Her voice was soft, carrying a slight tremor.

“Mrs. Blackwood, good evening,” came the polite reply.

“I don’t want to go back to Hawthorne Residence anymore.” Isabella took a steadying breath, forcing the words out.

A pause stretched between them before Benjamin responded, his tone uncertain.

“Pardon?”

“I mean, I want to bring my grandmother and Liam to stay with me at the place I’m renting,” Isabella replied, her voice firm with resolve.