CHAPTER 69: CHAPTER 69: UNCLE HOLDEN LIVES HERE TOO?

Jesse pouted, thought for a few seconds, put down her hand, turned her head back, and stared at her mom.

She distinctly remembered that Uncle Holden wore this dark black suit yesterday, with a dark blue handkerchief in his chest pocket.

She opened her mouth but hadn’t spoken when her mom handed her a cup of warm milk.

She lowered her head and drank the milk, not having time to say anything.

If it were really Uncle Holden, it would be great; living here, too, she’d want to hear the story after the Three Little Bears.

While Jesse was having breakfast, Jules Ellison called.

She asked where Jean Ellison was staying with the child because she wanted to visit Jesse.

Jesse had just had heart surgery, and she was worried.

Jean gave her the address, and there was a moment of silence on the other end of the line.

Jules couldn’t believe she had the money to rent such an expensive school district apartment.

People who live in Sovera are either rich or noble; why would they want to share a house with someone else?

The phone was hung up without a word, and Jean, used to this, put down the phone.

She didn’t expect Jules to treat her any better; Jules was destined to resent her forever for losing Jesse.

"Mom, I’m full."

Jesse stacked the bowl and chopsticks in front of her, jumped off the chair, and ran to the kitchen to wash her hands.

Jean, uneasy, got up to follow when a knock on the door sounded.

She had no choice but to answer the door first.

Opening the door, Jules stood outside, with no one behind her, neither bodyguards nor a nanny.

From head to toe, her showy outfit revealed no brand, luxurious yet understated, with only a high-quality jade bracelet on her wrist.

Her eyes bypassed Jean, eagerly looking into the room.

Her steps followed her gaze, and hearing the water sounds from the kitchen, her face changed.

"What kind of mother are you!"

"She’s so small, only four years old, and you let her wash dishes."

Jules pointed her finger at the woman standing at the door, her face flushed with anger, her slender fingertips trembling.

She quickly walked into the kitchen, exclaiming as she picked Jesse up from the small stool.

Jean also came over, seeing Jesse with her sleeves rolled up, the cuffs wet, and a small white hand clutching a half-wet cloth.

The dishcloth was brought from the previous house, casually placed next to the sink.

"It’s not mom who made me do the dishes, I wanted to help mom myself."

Jesse’s childish voice said as she dropped the dishcloth and ran to Jean.

Jules didn’t expect the child to be unwilling to be close to her after just a few days.

Her hand was pushed away by Jesse, staying suspended in mid-air, hesitating to withdraw it.

Jules felt a pang in her chest, momentarily speechless, wanting to lash out and vent.

Seeing Jesse’s face, she couldn’t say a harsh word.

Her mouth was tightly set, eyes slightly red, and eyes opened wider than usual.

"She just finished heart surgery, why aren’t you taking good care of her?"

"How can you let her into the kitchen, what if she breaks a bowl and cuts her hand, or touches those knives on the cutting board!"

Jules was emotionally agitated, unable to calm down.

She had been worried about Jesse for days, trapped at home by her mother-in-law, accompanying her in copying Buddhist scriptures.

Finally able to come out, seeing Jesse washing dishes in the kitchen, she was about to lose it.

Regardless of whether it was Jean’s doing or not, a mother shouldn’t let a four-year-old into the kitchen.

Jean gave birth to her daughter, never fed her a bite of milk, never coaxed her to sleep; how could she take care of a child?

"I’ll be more mindful in the future."

Jean walked into the kitchen, picked up the kitchen knife, and put it away in the cupboard.

Her tone was calm, showing no sign of reflection in Jules’s eyes.

Jules pulled Jesse’s arm, bringing the child into the living room.

"Jesse, mom has brought you a gift as a reward for our brave Jesse."

"Mom is sorry for not being with you during your surgery."

After returning from the hospital, that night she was called over by her mother-in-law, made to copy Buddhist scriptures all night, supposedly for the family’s blessing.

She couldn’t refuse, couldn’t have any leverage for her mother-in-law to seize upon.

The Jennings family elders looked down on her, long intending to sweep her out the door.

Married ten years, her womb had not stirred, having tried all kinds of methods, injected countless times, and taken no fewer than a hundred kinds of Chinese and Western medicines.

Jean walked out from the kitchen, just to see Jesse with a diamond bracelet forced into her hand.

Each diamond was the size of a soybean, a whole circle of ten or so.

The living room’s crystal chandelier light struck it, the diamond facets refracting colorful brilliance, very dazzling.

Jesse looked at the item, indifferent, in her eyes less attractive than the Little Bear stories.

From a young age, she had many such things.

Jean Ellison furrowed her brow and approached, "This is too valuable; you should take it back."

Jules Ellison kneeled in front of Jesse, turned her head to glare at her, and said coldly, "This is for Jesse, it’s none of your business."

"I’m her mother."

Jean looked towards her daughter sitting on the sofa, signaling her with her eyes.

Jesse understood her meaning, placed the diamond bracelet on the table, quietly climbed down from the sofa, and walked to her mother’s side.

She stretched out her small hand and grabbed onto Jean’s hand.

Jules stood up, leaning on the coffee table, and looked at the mother and daughter duo with a frown.

Everyone said Jesse looked like her; whoever raises the child, the child resembles them.

Only she knew that Jesse looked most like Jean, their face, features, and sometimes even their gaze.

"Really?"

"You’d better cherish this ’Mommy Experience Card’ while it lasts."

Jules’ lips curled into a mocking smile.

"What do you mean?"

Jean looked at her confused, inexplicably uneasy, her heartbeat noticeably quickening.

"I’ve already had Lawyer Warner file an appeal, I’m not giving up on Jesse."

Jules’s eyes on Jesse were full of bitterness and pain; she could not wait to take the child away now.

But Ian Jennings persuaded her, not to do anything illegal; his money could solve everything for her.

Jesse was her spiritual support in the Jennings family; without Jesse, time crawled by.

Every time she saw the Jennings’ old lady, she felt as if countless ants were gnawing at her flesh.

They simply hoped for her death, so the Jennings family could continue the lineage.

Jean’s pupils constricted suddenly, her heart seemed to be clenched by a giant hand.

She had only been reunited with Jesse for a few days, her heart barely settled, and now she faced losing Jesse again.

The scene from four years ago flashed before her eyes, when she gave birth and the doctor took the child away.

She lay on the cold operating table, drenched in sweat, completely exhausted, stretching her trembling hand trying to grab the doctor’s white coat, its hem stained with blood slipping through her clammy hand.

"No way!"

She cried out, frantically pulling Jesse into her embrace.

She could not lose her daughter again; four years ago, she had no choice. Now, she could support the child, and she would not stand by as Jesse was taken away again.

Jules laughed lightly, her tone dismissive: "Do you even have the money for a lawyer?"

Seeing Jean remain silent, she rolled her eyes.

"You don’t really think Justin Holden would help you a second time, do you?"

"If I’m not mistaken, your case was initially taken by Lawyer Warner, and by some fluke landed in Justin Holden’s hands."

"You were lucky, winning the first trial with his help."

"But will he help you again? You can’t even afford his retainer, unless you end up in his bed, living with him."

"But a man of his standing, no matter how desperate, wouldn’t bother with you, a con artist who gave birth in prison without knowing who the father is."

Jean clenched her fists; she had insisted countless times that she was not a con artist but was framed.

Jules didn’t believe her, and she was too tired to explain anymore.

She didn’t expect Jules to say such things in front of Jesse.

She lowered her head to look at Jesse, slightly anxious.

Jesse sensed the gaze from above and tilted her little head, her clear and bright eyes looking at her mother.

She didn’t yet understand what those words meant.

"I don’t need anyone to worry about the lawyer; I’ll figure it out. If I can beat you once, I can beat you twice."

Jean was uncertain, trying to make her words sound as credible as possible.

"Oh? Who are you planning to ask for help?"

"That doctor, or that young officer..."

Jules had investigated her to take back Jesse.

Jean bit her lower lip, its color turning a peculiar purple-red. Her hands tightly clenched, she delayed speaking.

"What’s wrong, can’t decide who to choose?"

"Don’t they all want to be Jesse’s stepfather? You might as well give them a chance."

Jules’ words were tinged with sourness, directly labeling her as flirtatious.

If she had been honest and proper, how would she have ended up having a child in prison without knowing who the father was?

Jules stepped towards her, eyes malevolent, casting a disdainful glance as if forcing her to admit something.

Just then, there was a double beep at the door as someone activated the fingerprint lock from outside.

Besides the landlord, no one else could open the lock; even her fingerprint hadn’t been registered yet.

Jean panicked inside; if the landlord saw this scene of endless quarrel, he might think they brought trouble with them and, out of anger, throw her and Jesse out.

She turned to look when she heard the door open, her eyes widening at the sight of the person entering.