Chapter 42
Grace ignored the noisy chatter around her. Her sly, upturned eyes curved as she smiled, and her lips curled up as she looked at Tegan. "What did you just call my son?"
Whenever Grace smiled like that, it meant a person's life and death hung in the balance.
That was the pattern Clara had recently figured out.
She kindly warned Tegan, "Ms. Ugly, you're done for."
Tegan didn't take Clara's warning seriously. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at Grace, replying, "Little bas—ah!"
Before she could finish the word, someone yanked her hair.
Grace was just about to make a move when Clara smartly handed her a pencil box from the nearby table. "Mommy, this one's sturdy. It won't hurt your hand."
The mother-daughter duo working together made things go smoothly.
The pencil box retired with honor after its duties were complete, and Tegan's lips swelled outward from the beating, blood dripping down.
"Apologize. To my son." Grace yanked her by the hair and dragged her in front of Et

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