Chapter 57: Calling the Parents

After wearing a mask for a week straight, he couldn’t justify wearing it any longer. Worried his mother would get suspicious, Felix Ford had no choice but to go to school with his face uncovered.

After getting out of the car, he scanned his surroundings, terrified of running into his father. Without even a proper goodbye for Amanda Vance, he hastily called out, "Bye, Mom!" and ran inside. He kept his head down all the way to his classroom, only letting out a sigh of relief when he arrived.

Annie happened to be coming out. She looked confused, but her eyes shifted to his backpack, and then understanding dawned on her. She asked tentatively, "Felix Ford?"

Now that he was in the classroom, he wasn’t worried. Class 8 and Class 1 were far apart, so the kids here probably had never seen him before. He nodded. "Yeah, it’s me."

’It really is him!’

Annie looked at him, pleasantly surprised. "Felix Ford, you’re so handsome!"

The other children saw him too and crowded around, sizing him up with curiosity. One kid couldn’t resist reaching out to poke his cheek. "Whoa, it’s real."

Felix Ford looked completely exasperated. He snorted, lifting his chin. "Of course it’s real. You think it’s fake? This is all-natural. No plastic surgery."

With that, he walked to his seat and sat down.

One of the kids in the class stared at him blankly, scratching his head in frustration. ’He looks so familiar. Where have I seen him before?’

After thinking for a long time, he couldn’t place it. He tapped his head. ’Maybe I’m just mistaken.’

Jean Vance had been wearing a mask ever since he started at the school, and he’d only just transferred. How could the boy have possibly seen him before?

’Or maybe he just has one of those common faces, similar to someone I’ve seen before.’

’Yeah, that must be it.’

He stopped thinking about it, pushed the matter to the back of his mind, and went to play with his friends.

Meanwhile, Jean Vance sat down and took off his backpack to put it in his desk. As he pulled his hand out, it brushed against something cool and slick. He glanced over and, sure enough, saw Paddy watching him with a nervous expression.

His eyelids drooped in annoyance. ’More of these boring, childish pranks.’

He pulled his hand out, his face expressionless, and opened a book to read.

The smile on Paddy’s face froze. He stared in confusion. ’Why isn’t he scared? Did he not touch it? No way, I put it in his desk myself.’

He was so antsy he wanted to go over and ask, but he knew he couldn’t. Just then, the teacher walked in, so he had to restrain himself. Still, his eyes kept flitting over to Jean’s desk. Every time Jean reached into the cubby, Paddy tensed up, only to see him pull his hand back out, perfectly calm.

No screaming, no sign of being scared.

’Did he not notice it? Or is the snake gone?’

Paddy was on pins and needles. When class finally ended, he saw Jean walk out of the room. His eyes lit up. ’Perfect! This is my chance!’

The moment Jean was out the door, Paddy sprinted to his desk, bent over, and peered inside. He was met by an unexpected pair of crimson eyes, and the shock sent him tumbling backward onto the floor. "AHH!"

Hearing the scream behind him, Jean Vance let out a bored yawn.

’Pathetic.’

’If you have any guts, use a real snake. You can tell a toy snake is fake the moment you touch it. Not convincing at all.’

’Back when I was abroad, the other kids threw *real* snakes in my desk.’

His expression turned cold at the memory.

When he returned from the bathroom, Paddy was sitting at his desk crying, surrounded by a group of kids trying to comfort him. As Jean walked in, they all shot him angry, accusatory looks.

Jean Vance narrowed his eyes and sneered. Reaching into the desk, he pulled out the toy snake. He looked at Paddy and drawled, "What’s the matter? Scared by your own prank? You must have been terrified carrying this thing around, but you were determined to cause me trouble. That’s some real dedication."

Paddy’s eyes darted around. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He just shot Jean an angry glare. In the next instant, he saw the snake flying toward him. "AHH!" he shrieked, instinctively ducking and covering his head, which made him lose his balance and fall to the floor again.

THUD! He landed hard, in a way that seemed to make the floor tremble.

Paddy froze for a moment, then opened his mouth and let out a loud, wailing cry.

His thunderous sobs quickly brought the teacher over. The teacher took in the scene, stunned for a second, then rushed forward to help Paddy up. "What’s wrong? What happened?"

Paddy was crying too hard to answer, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth wide open. A boy standing nearby—one of Paddy’s usual friends—pointed at Jean and said, "Felix Ford did it! He used a snake to scare Paddy."

The teacher glanced at the floor and saw the toy snake. His expression immediately darkened. "Felix Ford!"

But then the teacher seemed to remember who his father was and didn’t dare say more. His expression remained grim, however. "You, come with me."

With that, he helped Paddy up and led him out of the room.

Jean Vance’s gaze swept over the surrounding students. ’They all know Paddy put the snake in my desk to scare me first,’ he thought, ’but not one of them is speaking up for me.’

’Of course, it’s not like I need their help.’

’Still, I can’t help but wonder how that fool managed to survive in this class. Does he get wrongfully accused like this all the time?’

Following them in silence, Jean Vance’s expression grew heavier.

By the time Jean Vance got to the office, the teacher had already calmed Paddy down with a piece of candy. The boy was happily licking it, a trail of snot still under his nose. When he saw Jean walk in, he snorted arrogantly and mouthed, "You’re dead meat!"

’Is that so?’

Jean Vance stood there, hands in his pockets. ’We’ll see who’s dead meat by the end of the day.’

Samuel Ford was in the middle of a meeting when his phone lit up. He frowned at the caller ID, then raised a hand to silence the employee giving a report. Standing up, he walked out of the room to take the call. "Hello?"

After listening to what the teacher had to say, Samuel Ford’s frown deepened. "All right, I understand. I’m on my way. Thank you for letting me know."

He looked down, found a number in his contacts, and was about to dial it when he suddenly remembered the look in his son’s eyes the other day.

Cold and distant.

If not for the boy’s face and the DNA report in his study, he would never have believed this was the son he had raised for five years.

The boy had looked at him as if he were a complete stranger.

At first, there had been resentment in that gaze, but then it seemed to fade, as if the boy had decided, ’He’s just a stranger, after all. Why bother being upset?’

The feeling left him deeply uncomfortable.

Samuel Ford’s gaze was deep and unreadable, his thin lips pressed into a tight line. A moment later, he exited the contacts screen on his phone, told his nearby assistant, "Postpone the meeting," and strode away.

The assistant had a good idea of what was going on. ’The young master must have gotten into another fight at school, and they’re calling in the parents.’

’But President Ford always sent Shawn to handle these things before. Why is he going himself today?’

Seeing him, Jean Vance was also a little surprised.

That fool, Felix Ford, had once complained to Seven that his father never showed up for anything—not for parent-teacher conferences, not for school events, not even when he was called in for causing trouble.

Seven had an automatic recording function, which is how Jean had heard all of it.

The surprise was fleeting. He quickly schooled his features back into an expressionless mask and casually averted his gaze.

’What’s the difference if he comes or if Shawn Ford comes?’

’They’ll just throw money at the problem until it goes away.’