Adelyn paused at that.
Then, after a beat, she agreed, "Alright," she said, her tone calm and composed. "We can et later in the afternoon."
"Afternoon?" Charlotte repeated, a hint of hesitation slipping into her voice.
Adelyn raised a brow slightly, though Charlotte couldn’t see it through the phone. "Is there a problem, Madam Scott?" she asked, her tone polite yet distant.
Charlotte wanted to say sothing —but the way Adelyn addressed her, so formally and so detached, made the words die in her throat before they could form.
"See you in the afternoon then," she finally said.
And with that, she hung up the call.
Once the line disconnected, Charlotte’s brows furrowed even deeper than before.
Even though Adelyn had made it very clear that she no longer considered them family, Charlotte couldn’t bring herself to believe it —not truly.
How could she?
How could soone who had grown up under the sa roof, who had shared years of laughter, tears, and mories with them, simply sever those ties as if they ant nothing?
No ... Charlotte refused to accept that.
To her, this was nothing more than a phase —a result of hurt, of anger, of betrayal. And like all emotions, it would pass.
Slowly, with ti, Adelyn would calm down. She would co back.
After all, familial bonds weren’t threads that could be cut so easily. They were roots —deep, tangled, and unyielding.
"Mom ...," Liam’s voice suddenly broke through her thoughts, pulling her out of her trance.
She turned to look at him.
There he was —walking into the house, his steps steady but heavy, and exhaustion clearly written across his face.
His shirt was slightly wrinkled, his hair less composed than usual, and there was a faint tiredness lingering in his eyes that he didn’t even bother to hide.
"Who were you talking to?" he asked, setting his suit jacket aside before lowering himself onto the sofa. He leaned back slightly, as though finally allowing his body to rest after hours of strain.
He had only just returned ho.
Charlotte frowned the mont she saw his state like that ...
"Didn’t you say you were returning ho to rest?" she asked, her tone was laced with genuine concern. "Where were you the entire night? You’re only coming back now?"
Liam shook his head slightly before leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"I went to look for Bryer, Mom," he said.
"For Bryer?" Charlotte repeated, her confusion imdiate. "Didn’t he return ho yesterday as well?"
She herself had arrived late the previous night and hadn’t had the chance to check on everyone.
Her frown deepened. "He didn’t even co to visit Clara at the hospital yesterday. What is he up to?"
"Mom, don’t bla him," Liam said, his voice calm and asured, though the fatigue in it was hard to miss. "Bryer isn’t even in the country right now. He might not even know about Clara’s condition. How could he co to visit her?"
Charlotte’s confusion only grew. Liam noticed it and explained further.
"He left for Belmar the evening before yesterday for his training," he said. "He won’t be coming back until next week."
When she heard that, displeasure surfaced on Charlotte’s face.
"He left the country without telling us?" she said, her tone sharpening. "How could he do that? Call him right now. I want to talk to him."
Liam didn’t move.
Seeing him remain seated, Charlotte’s impatience grew. She reached for her phone without another word.
"I’ll call him myself."
Before Liam could stop her, she had already dialed the number.
However, just as the call connected, an automated voice echoed from the other end—informing her that the phone was switched off.
Her expression changed instantly.
Lowering the phone slightly, she looked at Liam.
Liam t her gaze and gave a small nod. "He’s had his phone switched off since the breakfast we had together," he said. "Give him so ti. He’ll call back when he’s ready."
That was precisely why it had taken him the entire night to track Bryer’s whereabouts.
He had tried calling him again and again, only to be t with the sa automated response every single ti. He had even gone as far as checking the places Bryer usually frequented —nightclubs, lounges, and private gatherings.
But it was only much later that his team inford him of the truth.
The team had left for Belmar —and Bryer was with them too.
Charlotte sighed softly, shaking her head.
"No wonder I always say he and Linnie are birds of a feather," she muttered. "They both react the sa way when they’re upset."
At that, Liam paused.
For a brief second, he lifted his gaze and looked at his mother.
He wanted to correct her.
He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t the sa.
Yes, Bryer was upset. And perhaps his sudden departure without informing them was a result of that frustration.
But Adelyn ...
She was different.
She didn’t seem to be acting in a fit of anger.
She had seed to have distanced herself with clarity —with finality.
She had severed ties not out of impulse, but out of decision.
And that was what unsettled him the most.
Because if it was truly a decision ...
Then there might not be a way back at all.
Still, despite that looming fear, a small part of him held onto hope.
Hope that perhaps —just perhaps —things might return to how they once were.
A family.
"Liam?" Charlotte called out, when she noticed him lost in thought. "What are you thinking?"
Liam blinked, snapping out of it. He shook his head lightly before standing up.
"Clara will get discharged today, Mom," he said, shifting the topic. "We have to go and get her back ho. I should go freshen up first, and then we can together head to the hospital."
With that, he turned away to leave.
But just as he took a step forward, Charlotte’s voice stopped him.
"Liam ..."
Her tone was soft, yet there was a quiet certainty woven into it —fragile, but present.
"Linnie will co back ho sooner or later," she said. "She grew up with us. She’s a part of this family. She can’t just sever everything over a few words."
What she ant was clear —Adelyn’s words the other day weren’t ant to be taken seriously.
She had only said them in anger.
To make them realize her pain.
To make them regret what they had done.
Liam paused mid-step.
For a mont, he didn’t turn around.
Then, slowly, he shifted his head just enough to glance back at her.
"Mom," he said quietly, his voice steady yet heavy with aning, "there’s only one thing I know for sure."
He turned fully this ti, eting her gaze.
"Adelyn doesn’t owe us anything," he continued, the seriousness in his eyes unmistakable. "If anything, it’s us who owe her —for betraying her trust."
Charlotte parted her lips, almost there to refute his words—
But before she could say anything ...
Liam spoke again.
"We’ll get late," he said, his tone returning to its usual calmness. "I’ll go get ready first."
And with that, he turned and walked upstairs without waiting for her response.
Charlotte stood there, watching his retreating figure.
She knew her son well.
She knew that the guilt weighing on him was real —and heavy.
His words weren’t born out of logic alone. They were shaped by self-bla, by regret, by the quiet realization of what they had done.
Still ...
She couldn’t accept it.
She refused to believe that Adelyn’s decision was as final as it sounded.
To her, it was nothing more than anger speaking —a temporary storm that would pass with ti.
And she was certain of one thing—
When she t Adelyn later that day, she would prove it.
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