Chapter 322
Harlan jumped, startled, and turned to Caitlin. “Goodbye, Miss Freya p>
Then he ran off to Yara’s side.
Watching his retreating figure, Caitlin frowned and hurried after him. “Mrs. Somerset, you really should take Harlan to the hospital! If you wait any longer, it might be too late p>
“Miss Gonzales, will you just stop already? Harlan is my son-this is a family matter. I told you, I don’t need you meddling in our business!” Yara’s tone was sharp. With that, she grabbed Harlan and marched off.
Caitlin called after her, “Mrs. Somerset, at least keep a close eye on Harlan over the next few days. If he passes out, you must get him to a hospital immediately p>
If they could get him medical help the moment he fainted, there might still be hope.
But Yara couldn’t be bothered to listen to Caitlin’s warnings. She dragged Harlan to the car by the curb, slammed the door shut, and snapped, “Harlan, how many times have I told you? Stay away from people like Freya! Bad company will only drag you down p>
There was no way she’d let her son turn out like some nineteen-year-old who got married and divorced in a heartbeat-a total failure.
“Mom, I feel really sick. My head is spinning,” Harlan leaned back against the seat, his whole body drained of energy.
“Quit faking it!” Yara said, exasperated. “Every time you mess up and I scold you, you pull the same stunt! If I’d known you’d turn out like this, I never would’ve had you in the first place p>
A bitter smile flickered at the corner of Harlan’s mouth.
He stared at the sunlight filtering through the window. The world was so bright, and yet everything seemed shrouded in darkness.
“Mom, I really am dizzy. I’m so sleepy p>
“Get up!” Yara’s frustration boiled over.
Seeing how angry she was, Harlan forced himself upright with the last of his strength.
It wasn’t long before the car pulled up in front of the Somerset family’s mansion.
Yara yanked Harlan out, half-dragging him up the steps, and locked him in the study. “You’d better finish both sets of advanced math exercises before dinner. If you don’t, you won’t get a single bite to eat tonight p>
Harlan slumped against the door, his voice strained. “Mom, my head’s spinning even worse. Can I skip the homework tonight p>
“Stop pretending!” Yara snapped, ignoring the pain on Harlan’s face. “I’ll be back to check your work tonight. If you don’t finish, you’ll deal with the consequences!” With that, she stormed downstairs.
“Mom… Mom Harlan pounded weakly on the door. “I really don’t feel good, Mom p>
Liam came home just in time to hear his son banging on the door upstairs. He glanced up, then turned to Yara. “What’s going on with Harlan p>
“Don’t pay him any mind. He’s faking it! Honestly, of all the things he could pick up at his age, he chooses to fake being sick! And it’s all Freya’s fault! Ever since she said something about him having a heart problem, he’s been acting like this!” Yara grew more agitated as she spoke. “I saw Freya in the park today too. She started lecturing me again about taking Harlan to the hospital, and of course, Harlan overheard her. That’s why he’s pretending to be sick now! See what happens when you let him hang around bad influences p>
Liam shrugged it off, deciding not to worry about the noise upstairs. Kids faking illness and rebelling was nothing new.
Inside the study, Harlan waited, hope fading as neither parent came for him. He was so tired exhausted, really—and his head felt unbearably heavy.
Bang!
He finally couldn’t hold on any longer and collapsed hard onto the floor.
In the final moments before his eyes closed, he saw his grandparents walking toward him. They looked just as gentle and kind as he remembered. When they were alive, he’d felt truly loved.
“Grandma… Grandpa… are you here for me p>
“You finally came for me p>
“Goodbye, Mom and Dad p>
“Goodbye, Miss Freya. Goodbye, Monday p>
A small, peaceful smile appeared on Harlan’s lips.
The thud from his fall was loud enough to echo downstairs.
Both Liam and Yara heard it.
Liam looked at Yara, a flicker of concern on his face. “Do you think something’s really wrong with Harlan? Maybe we should check on him p>
“No need. He’s just throwing a tantrum. Ignore him! The more attention you give, the worse he’ll act out,” Yara insisted. “I swear, I’m going to break him of this spoiled behavior once and for all p>
Liam nodded. His wife’s words made sense.
Four hours passed in the blink of an eye.
At six-thirty that evening, it was time for dinner at the Somerset house.
Liam turned to the housekeeper. “Mae, go call the young master down for dinner.” “Yes, sir p>
Ten minutes later, Mae returned to the dining room. “Sir, ma’am, no matter how many times I knock on the study door, the young master doesn’t answer p>
Yara frowned. “He’s just sulking again, like last time!” She turned to Mae, “Go get
the paddle. I’m going to teach him a lesson tonight p>
She glanced at Liam. “And don’t you dare try to stop me p>
“Understood,” Liam replied.
Mae quickly returned with the paddle.
Clutching it, Yara stormed upstairs and flung open the study door.
The moment she walked in, she saw Harlan lying motionless on the floor.
Her anger only intensified. “Harlan, get up! You’re pushing your luck with this nonsense! Pretending to faint now?” She brought the paddle down hard on his back.
Normally, Harlan would’ve jumped up in fright. But today, he didn’t move at all.
Seeing her son still sprawled on the floor, Yara lost her temper completely. “That’s it!” she muttered, rolling up her sleeves. “You think I can’t straighten you out p>
Mae, sensing something was very wrong, rushed over and checked for breath. Her face turned ashen. She looked up at Yara and Liam, her voice trembling, “S- sir, ma’am… I—I think the young master… he’s not breathing p>