The nurse saw Jessica signing and, blinking in sympathy, lamented, "She's so beautiful—what a shame she can't speak."

Henry could read Jessica's sign language. She was telling the nurse that she was his mother. He tensed, terrified she'd use her voice synthesizer and reveal the

truth.

Annoyance crept into his voice. "What are you waving your hands around for? No one else understands your sign language."

Jessica pulled out her phone, intent on using her voice ring to speak.

But Henry snatched her phone away before she could, turning to the nurse with a bright, practiced smile. "Ma'am, she's our housekeeper. My dad likes a quiet home, so he hired someone who doesn't talk."

Jessica froze.

Did he just say she was the housekeeper?

She'd seen this plot play out on TV-sons, ashamed of their mothers after making something of themselves, introducing them to others as the help or distant relatives. The mothers never got angry; they'd just cry quietly, terrified of embarrassing their child.

Jessica had always despised those ungrateful sons with a vengeance.

imagined that one

finally understood the agony of those silent tears-the pain was like a knife

nurse gently wrapped gauze around Henry's arm and dabbed his skin

instinctively tried to hug Henry, worried he

tinged with impatience. "I'm not a little kid anymore. I'm tough—I'm not scared of needles. You don't

seeing how brave he was, smiled

needle, Henry's face tightened and his brows furrowed, but he bit down

better than anyone when he was

place, Henry puffed up a little with pride.

Henry. Last time you

that Sheila was his mother, and guilt pricked

grinned. "Well, with your mom around, you're supposed to act a little spoiled,

at them curiously. "By

my dad on

clenched into fists before she could

The Gilded Whisper Estates

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