Chapter 309
Hearing his wife’s words, Liam nodded. “If Harlan pulls through, it’s only right that we thank Miss Templeton p>
Yara continued, “I’ve already promised Miss Templeton that once Harlan recovers, we’ll ask him to call her his godmother p>
“That’s fine,” Liam replied without hesitation. “I’ll leave it to you p>
He straightened his tie. “I’m off to the office p>
“Alright.” Yara walked him to the car and instructed the driver, “Blake, drive carefully p>
“Yes, ma’am p>
Only after Liam’s car disappeared down the driveway did Yara turn back to the house.
Upstairs, Harlan was practicing the piano.
Yara’s heels clicked sharply against the hardwood as she climbed to the second floor, frowning. “Harlan, where is your mind? I asked you to practice, but you just missed two notes. Did you even notice p>
An ordinary person probably wouldn’t have caught the mistakes.
But piano was Yara’s forte.
Harlan looked over his shoulder, exhaustion written all over his face. “Mom, I didn’t mean to. I’m just so tired. Can I take a break p>
He was tired-bone-deep, inexpressible fatigue.
Yara scoffed. “You’re too young to be tired. Stop making excuses and practice properly. Ten more times! If you miss another note, it’s another ten. You’ll keep going until you get it right. And when you’re done here, you have advanced math class, and after that, your French tutor will be coming for your one-on-one lesson. When you get to go to bed tonight depends entirely on when you finish your piano practice p>
Hearing this, all hope drained from Harlan’s face. His very breath felt heavy.
For as long as he could remember, his days had been an endless list of tasks.
“Mom,” Harlan turned to look at Yara, “I really am tired. Miss Freya was right—I might really need to have surgery p>
The moment those words left his mouth, Yara’s expression darkened with anger.
In her mind, this was all Caitlin’s fault, filling Harlan’s head with negativity and
nonsense.
“Keep playing! If you pretend to be sick again, you can forget about any breaks today p>
Harlan bit his lip, wanting to explain further, but when he met his mother’s icy stare, the words died in his throat.
He wanted to say he wasn’t pretending.
He really, truly felt awful.
But he was only ten.
How could a ten-year-old possibly change his mother’s mind?
Once Yara decided he was faking, that was the end of it.
“Well? Play!” Yara snapped, her voice rising. She grabbed a ruler and struck him lightly across the back.
Only then did Harlan manage to lift his arms and start playing once more.
Ten minutes later, he finished the piece without a mistake. Yara crouched down to his level, resting a hand on his shoulder, her tone heavy with meaning. “Harlan, you’re the Somerset family’s only heir. One day, you’ll have to take over Somerset Group. You must be exceptional. I make you practice piano, study advanced math, learn French-it’s all for your own good! You’re my only hope. To give you the best upbringing, I even sent your sisters abroad. Do you think they didn’t long for their mother too p>
“Don’t take it for granted p>
“This is your last warning. If I find out you’re faking illness to avoid studying again, you won’t be allowed to have any fun on Christmas Eve. Do you hear me p>
Did Yara, as a mother, not love her two daughters?
Of course she did.
She dreamed of them every night.
But she had no choice. If her daughters were here, she’d have to split her attention between them and her son.
She sent them away so she could focus all her energy on raising Harlan.
After all, only her son could inherit the Somerset name.
Hearing his mother’s words, Harlan felt the weight on his shoulders grow heavier.
He lowered his head. “I understand p>
The truth was, he wished he could go abroad with his sisters.
He envied them deeply-for not having to live with their parents.
He didn’t want to live with his mom and dad at all.
He certainly didn’t want to be some heir.
His father was always too busy at work to spend any time with him. His mother
only cared about his studies, even when he was sick.
A life like this felt utterly meaningless.