The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself Chapter 497

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Chapter 497

After his honest confession, Julian even turned the computer back on to show his dad the camera feed.

On the screen, Penelope had finished most of the apple and was lounging on the sofa. After a while, her legs seemed to get restless, so she stretched them out a few times.

Still uncomfortable, she grumbled lazily, then rolled off the sofa, tossed the apple core onto the coffee table, and started practicing boxing in the empty space behind the couch.

“Dad, not only is she lazy and messy, but she also seems a little crazy,” Julian commented.

As soon as Theodore saw Penelope, his expression hardened, and his brow furrowed.

“Haven’t I warned you not to hack into other people’s cameras p>

Julian could tell whether his father was truly angry or just trying to scare him. This time, it was real anger. He quickly shut down the computer, promising he would never do it again.

Seeing his son hang his head in apology, Theodore felt a pang of guilt.

“Don’t rely on clever tricks. If you don’t use them for the right reasons, you’ll pay for it later p>

“Okay p>

“I’m not scolding you p>

“Okay His voice was already cracking.

Theodore cleared his throat and pulled his son into a hug.

“Alright, your uncle isn’t a stranger. Hacking into his camera isn’t a big deal p>

“That’s what I thought, too,” Julian said, grinning immediately.

Theodore’s mouth twitched. “Go to bed. You have school tomorrow p>

“I’m going to go light some incense for my mom first p>

Theodore wanted to say it wasn’t necessary, but Julian had already darted out of the room.

In the small upstairs living room hung a black-and-white photograph. It wasn’t of Penelope, of course, but an Al-generated image of what. Julian imagined his mother would look like, using his own features as a template.

Because the boy asked too many questions, Theodore, seeking some peace and quiet, had simply told him that his mother died from blood loss while giving birth to

him.

The little boy had never forgotten. When he got older, he asked for a picture of his mother Theodore told him they had all been destroyed, so Julian generated one himselPand asked if it looked like her.

He had said yes, it was a perfect likeness, her spitting image, but in reality, it looked nothing like her.

The boy was thrilled. He printed it out and hung it on the wall.

Every morning and evening, he would light a stick of incense for her, the picture of a devoted son.

Julian lit the incense, bowed respectfully three times, and gave a detailed account of his day before finally agreeing to go to bed.

After Julian was asleep, Theodore left his room. As he passed through the small living room, he saw the black-and-white photo, gritted his teeth, and lit a stick of incense himself.

“Rest in peace p>

Penelope felt a sudden chill and pulled the covers tighter around her before finally drifting off to sleep.

She needed to sort things out here as quickly as possible so she could go back to her small town and resume her quiet life.

Zebulon helped Mrs. Sullivan get Mr. Sullivan into bed. When he came out, he saw Rebecca had arrived.

Her face was covered in bruises, she was limping, her clothes were disheveled, and blood was trickling from the corner of her mouth. Seeing her like this, Zebulon frowned.

“What happened to you p>

Rebecca collapsed onto the sofa. “Penelope set me up p>

“Penelope p>

“I sent her to entertain Harry, but she

went in and beat him up, then

claimed put her up to it. She

caused all that trouble and then just took off leaving me behind,

Thinking about what shed endured, Rebecca’s fists clenched. That

bastard, Harry’s not human. He let his goons p>

Rebecca didn’t have to finish the sentence; Zebulon could guess the rest.

He knew what kind of man Harry was. He played dirty. The fact that Rebecca had

gotten out of his clutches alive was a testament to her own resilience.

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