James Horne, his heart heavy, struggled to squat down in front of Pheobe Rogers. His usually cold eyes, now filled with indescribable pain, fixed on her.

Pheobe Rogers continued, tears and snot streaming down her face, "I gave birth to you. You're a son of the Horne Family! Mom doesn't have grand ambitions; I just want to spend the holidays with you and your dad. Do they really need to treat me this way? After all these decades, I've endured it all. I'm not fighting or trying to grab anything anymore, so why do they still treat me like this?"

Endured? James thought. If she'd truly endured, would she come to the house every day to bother and annoy people? Not fighting or trying to grab anything? If that were true, why does she always instigate me to seize Glades's power? Why does she always cry to Gian, complaining that her son has nothing?

"Mom, what hurtful things did you say?" James extended his hand, helped Pheobe Rogers up from the ground, and asked in a low voice.

Pheobe Rogers suddenly stopped weeping. She lifted her face and glared intently at James, as if she no longer recognized him. Her face was still streaked with tears, her voice thick with emotion.

What did she just hear? Her son was asking her what hurtful things *she* said! She'd thought that when he saw Glades's bodyguards throw her out, so callously, he would be enraged. She'd expected him to demand justice for her. Instead, he was questioning what hurtful things *she* had said. Did her own son, her own flesh and blood, see her as a bad woman who only ever spoke to hurt others?

No kind of pain cut deeper than the distrust of one's own children.

It was the same for Pheobe Rogers.

She could endure any mistreatment from the Horne Family, but she couldn't bear her only son seeing her this way. She felt that everything she fought for, everything she desired to seize, was for him. Yet, he didn't trust her; he saw her as a bad woman. Was there anything more humiliating, more painful than this? Glades Horne, oh, how clever you are! You've ensnared my son with your so-called brotherly love, making him see me as a bad woman! Who said Glades Horne was magnanimous and wouldn't hold a grudge? Glades's retaliation was insidious and protracted. Step by step, he was snatching away the son she cherished most, making him respect Glades and distance himself from his own mother. Could any blow be more devastating than this?

"James, is this how you treat your mother? When I'm bullied, you don't help me seek justice from those who wronged me; instead, you question me?" Pheobe Rogers shrieked, her voice cracking with the hysteria of her outburst. Her outcry was filled with alarm. She was terrified of losing James, her only true support. Even if Gian claimed to truly love her, he also had feelings for Mila Anderson; his love wasn't pure, not absolute. Only her son was her rock in her old age, and he was now a successful businessman with considerable assets. If she lost her son, her pillar, how would she survive? Glades's retribution would certainly extend beyond merely taking her son from her.

"Mom, Big Brother wouldn't just throw you out without reason. Given that you're my mom, he wouldn't have treated you like this so readily. You must have said something to anger him. Mom, did you hurt Julia... my sister-in-law?" James's gaze turned icy, his eyes becoming exceptionally sharp as he stared at Pheobe, as if he would fight her to the death if she had wronged Julia.

Pheobe Rogers was shocked by his sudden change in demeanor and his piercing eyes. In her surprise, a terrifying thought flashed through her mind, unsettling her further. Very cautiously, in a very low voice, she asked, "James, do you love Julia?"

A flicker of agony crossed James's face for an instant, but it was so fleeting that Pheobe Rogers couldn't be sure what she had seen.

"Mom, if you want me to die at Big Brother's hands, you can ask that again," James said coldly, then deliberately concealed all his concern and tension. He didn't want his mother to use this to sow discord between him and his big brother.

Pheobe Rogers shuddered again. Yes, the love and indulgence Glades showed Julia was unparalleled. If Glades found out that her precious son loved Julia, wouldn't that be courting death?

Pheobe Rogers didn't know that Glades had long since seen through it and had warned James more than once.

Glades had never truly harmed James, partly because of their fraternal bond, and partly because Julia didn't want him to. He always treated his beloved wife's words as a sacred command.

"James, why do you treat your mother this way? I'm your closest kin," Pheobe Rogers said, abandoning her previous line of questioning and returning to her original grievance.

James pressed his lips together, silent.

This gesture made him seem even more like Glades.

"Pheobe, are you okay?"

At that moment, Gian Horne came out, his old face still showing the exasperation from moments before. When his gaze met James's, he looked apologetic, feeling he had failed his son by not protecting his son's mother.

But Pheobe's words had indeed been too excessive. Adele was his daughter, after all—his only daughter, the apple of his eye. How could Pheobe speak of her like that? If Glades could tolerate such an insult, he wouldn't be Glades.

"Dad, what happened?" James asked coldly. His peripheral vision caught Glades leading Julia back towards the house, and the elders in the courtyard were also rising to go inside. It was as if everyone was isolating him again, seeing him as aligned with his mother.

Suppressing the pain, James still wanted to understand exactly what his mother had done wrong to provoke his beloved Big Brother into throwing her out.

Gian Horne suddenly faltered, struggling to find the words.

The fault lay with Pheobe, and yet, just moments ago, he had been somewhat biased in her favor. Turning his head, he saw the empty courtyard. A sudden panic gripped him; he felt as though his entire family had isolated him. Was it because they were all disappointed in him? Especially Glades, his most prized and beloved son. And his daughter-in-law, Julia Bluen, whom he had watched grow up and cherished like his own daughter.