Chapter 9: Is Willow Recognized by Waylon Lewis?

She widened her eyes!

She was filled with horror!

She saw a man in a suit and leather shoes helping the little girl up from the ground.

And that man was Waylon Lewis—the little girl could only be her daughter!

Willow pushed away Waylon's touch with repulsion, staring at him with her big, round eyes.

In Willow's eyes, Waylon Lewis was the bad daddy who took Mommy away and made her sad. She could get up by herself; she didn't need his help.

Seeing Waylon pushed away, Joy Ward crouched down in front of Willow, unpleasantly saying, "Little girl, the uncle was helping you up; how could you push him away? You should say thank you, you know?"

Willow looked up at Waylon and then at Joy Ward, confirming without a doubt that this was the bad woman her brother had mentioned, the one with the bad daddy!

"Who are you? Why are you lecturing me? Wahhh..." Willow cried out with a wail.

When Joy saw Willow cry, she forced a smile, "Little girl, why are you crying? I..."

"Wah... are you bullying me? You're yelling at me, wah..." Such young children are absolute experts at tantrums, and at this age, they are killers at playing up—and Willow, as white and tender as she was, and as cute as a fortune doll, was no exception.

Willow cried loudly, and the surrounding people, seeing the little girl cry like that, were all heartbroken and came to persuade her.

Hope Williams stood not far away and, hearing Willow cry, felt a tightness in her chest, wishing she could rush over immediately.

She clenched her fists tightly, but she couldn't.

She would expose herself if she approached.

"What happened to the little child? Why are you crying so pitifully, who is bullying you?" A passerby couldn't help but ask.

"Don't cry, little one; our hearts are melting. Tell grandma, who is bullying you?"

As more and more onlookers gathered, Willow pitifully wiped her tears, hiding in the embrace of a woman, looking at Joy Ward and Waylon Lewis with fear.

Joy couldn't stand the blameful glances from those around her and, face unable to maintain composure, reached to pull Willow, her voice rising in panic, "Little girl, you can't just say anything; where did I bully you?"

When Joy tugged her, Willow stumbled forward and fell to the ground, crying with her little face turning red, tears falling like they cost nothing.

"Why are you like this? If you want to talk, then talk. Why did you have to get physical?" an elderly woman holding Willow chided her sternly.

"Exactly, what kind of person are you, to be so harsh with such a small child and have the nerve."

"She looks pretty, but who knew her heart would be so dark."

Waylon looked at the tearful little girl with furrowed brows, also a little at a loss to deal with a child of this size crying so hard.

"I, I didn't do anything. I just wanted to pull her up. I didn't expect this to happen."

Joy was desperate to explain, but the more she did, the more defenseless she seemed, who would've thought that the child could cry like this from a mere touch, just like a scam.

And Willow, who was crying loudly on the old woman's shoulder, saw her mommy behind and mischievously winked at her.

Humph! This was the consequence of the bad woman bullying Mommy.

Hope couldn't help but curve her lips into a smirk. Willow must have inherited this acting skill, this little craftiness, from someone—she even deceived Hope, let alone others.

"Enough." Waylon lifted Willow into his arms from the old lady.

Hope felt a lump in her throat, watching Waylon's expression intently, fearing he would recognize Willow.

Willow kicked her legs, struggling in Waylon's arms.

"What's your name?" Waylon stared at Willow, from the very first glance he thought the child's eyebrows and eyes resembled her, her little face just now scrunched up in an angry expression, even more so like her.

And she had just come out from the restroom, and that woman had just gone to the restroom too; the coincidence was too striking.

"Let me go. I don't know you; let go, let me go, I won't tell you," Willow struggled in Waylon's arms like a tiny beast.

Passersby wanted to come forward to appease her, but the aura around the man deterred them.

Hope's heart raced to her throat, an overwhelming fear flooding her.

Did he recognize her?

Did he recognize her?

"Hope Williams," Waylon called her, "come here."

Startled by the man's voice, Hope snapped back to reality, and when she looked up, she saw the man's deep, pool-like eyes fixed on her.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, unable to read his emotions, and his commanding voice forced Hope to muster the courage to step forward.

Hope forced herself to calm down and walked up to the man, looking directly into his cold, deep eyes, "What's the matter?"

"What are you doing standing there?" Waylon's voice was as usual, no hint of any anomaly, but his gaze on Hope was constantly monitoring her emotions.

Seeing Hope approach, Willow's eyes couldn't help but brighten.

This subtle reaction from Willow didn't escape Waylon's gaze.

Hope held her breath, her hands at her sides tightened then relaxed in an alternating rhythm; she smiled and spoke, "Waylon Lewis, are you guys even human? You're bullying such a small child."

"Your eyes are red, what's that about? Are you upset?"

"How interesting your words are, President Lewis," Hope sneered coldly, "It's not my child, why would I be upset? I simply can't stand it."

After speaking, Hope casually glanced at Willow, acting completely unconcerned.

In reality, her heart was pounding in her throat. Under the man's scrutinizing gaze, Hope felt transparent—like there was nothing she could hide.

Playing tricks in front of him was as risky as plucking a tooth from a tiger's mouth; she didn't know if he believed her or not.

"Willow." At that moment, a tastefully dressed woman hurried over from not far away.

It was Aria Richardson.

No, it was a savior!

Aria brushed past Hope as if she didn't know her, walked quickly to Waylon, and looked at Willow, "Willow, how did you get here? Mommy was so worried."