"It’s fine. I’m not fit to be your daughter, and you’re not fit to be my mother—get up and leave now."
Leslie Howard took a deep breath and finally couldn’t hold back anymore; she stepped forward to pull Sheila Fletcher up.
Sheila Fletcher, pulled up by Leslie Howard, looked displeased.
She brushed off Leslie’s hand, "I don’t need you to pull up; I can get up myself."
Saying that, she stood up, slung her bag over her shoulder, and glared at Leslie Howard with great dissatisfaction: "Listen, Leslie, I don’t care how you see it or think about it, but I am your mother. Don’t forget the ten months of pregnancy I went through to give birth to you, and don’t forget that after your Dad passed away, I was the one who raised you alone.
When you were five, our family was so poor we couldn’t even cook, and you had a fever in the dead of winter. I carried you house-to-house through the snow, begging for help until a kind person lent money to take you to see a doctor.
My feet still get chilblains every winter, a leftover from those days.
Never mind the creditors, chasing us for repaynts. I, Sheila Fletcher, may not be perfect, but I’ve never treated you, Leslie Howard, poorly. You are my only daughter, and that fact remains true even though you have a brother now."
Here we go again...
Hearing Sheila Fletcher’s words, Leslie Howard could hardly feel moved anymore.
Perhaps initially, hearing her mother say such things, she would feel touched.
She would understand her situation and forgive her actions, but again and again... All these stories of past hardships have slowly beco shackles.
Shackles weighing down her heart.
Leslie Howard, as if seeing through Sheila Fletcher’s words, bowed her head, lowered her eyes, and pulled out a cold smile: "Go ahead, what’s your demand this ti?"
She had long grown accustod to these reminders of maternal grace and the hardships they endured as a mother-daughter duo only coming when sothing is needed.
Indeed, just like every other ti before.
Sheila Fletcher’s expression faltered for a mont upon hearing Leslie Howard’s words.
She pursed her lips and said coldly, "What could a mother want? I’m just here to care about you. Leslie, listen to , you shouldn’t act in this drama... Tell the crew you want to quit, don’t stir up trouble anymore."
"What did you just say?" Even though Leslie already knew Sheila Fletcher had changed and was no longer the mother she could rely on.
Hearing her say it out loud was still deeply disappointing.
She lifted her eyes to look at Sheila, tears welling up but forcing herself not to cry.
"Do you know what this play ans to , and you want to quit acting? For Bruce Wallace’s trust, to establish yourself in the Wallace family, you can so easily destroy my career, making a stepping stone for Winona Wallace, letting her trample over . Fine, I’ve been a stepping stone for four years. I’ve helped her rise—now, your heir has been born, and your status is secure.
I want to make a coback; is it still not possible? Do you know how hard it is for to make a coback without anyone but my cousin to help , with no company backing ? Why, even now, won’t you let go!?"
"Nonsense, you call that making a coback on your own!" Sheila Fletcher felt no guilt, instead accusing Leslie Howard.
"Don’t think I don’t know; you landed this female lead role entirely because you cozied up to Director Henson. I thought it was odd the last ti I was at the company, how you could score this female lead role with your current status. Hah, so that’s how it is. Leslie Howard, what kind of coback are you dreaming of? Can’t you just stay quiet, wait for your Uncle Wallace to change your surna, and marry into a wealthy family?
Look at the ss you’ve caused now; I don’t even know how to clean it up for you so that those aristocratic boys will accept you."
[Next Chapter before 19:30]
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