Chapter 63: Mom is Mine

When Jean Vance heard that, his brow furrowed. "I’m like him?"

"Yeah, yeah!" Speaking of which, Felix Ford grew more interested. He studied Jean and added, "See? Neither of you likes to smile, and you both look really tough. You’re a lot alike, aren’t you?"

Jean Vance’s brow tightened. He was clearly displeased by the comparison and insisted, "I look like my mom."

’Before we came back, that man hadn’t raised me for a single day. How could I possibly be like him?’

’I have to look like Mom.’

’He’s the one who’s like that man.’

But Felix Ford completely missed the point. He just nodded gravely, clapped Jean on the shoulder, and said, "Yeah, you’re right. We take after our moms. It’d be a disaster if we were like our dads."

’Dad’s always got such a sour look on his face, and his temper is awful. If I ended up like him... just the thought makes me not want to grow up.’

Jean Vance frowned, brushed the hand off his shoulder, and stressed, "She’s *my* mom."

At those words, Felix Ford bristled. He finally realized his excitement had been completely one-sided. Since the moment they met, Jean hadn’t shown a shred of happiness—in fact, there was even a hint of dislike in his eyes.

He went on guard instantly.

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

Seeing his reaction, Jean knew Felix had no intention of giving their mother back to him. At this realization, his expression darkened. ’It looks like there are some things I need to make very clear to him.’ He spoke again, his voice firm. "She is *my* mom. I lived with her for five years. I’ve been calling her ’Mom’ for five years. I am her only son."

Felix Ford stared at him, dumbfounded. "Then... what about me?" he mumbled.

"You have your dad."

"I don’t want him!" Felix Ford suddenly shouted, the earlier delight in his eyes completely vanishing. "She’s my mom, too! She holds me when I sleep, tells me stories, and even makes me little dolls! She’s *my mom*!"

Hearing this only made it worse. Jean immediately remembered the scene from that morning, and the displeasure in his eyes became impossible to hide. "That’s only because Mom thinks you’re me. Do you dare tell her who you really are?"

"I..." Felix Ford froze. ’I don’t dare.’

’Not only do I not dare, I’m terrified Mom will find out I’m not the real Jean Vance. If that happened...’

Panic flickered in his eyes. Seeing his chance, Jean pressed on, "Stealing from other people isn’t what good kids do."

Felix Ford’s lips trembled, but no words came out. Seeing this, Jean thought he had finally gotten through to him, but Felix suddenly shoved him away and roared, "I’m not a good kid anyway!"

’If being a good kid means I have to give Mom back, then I’d rather be a bad kid.’

’Besides, this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been a bad kid.’

’Dad doesn’t like me, the teachers don’t like me, the other kids don’t like me. It doesn’t matter. All I need is for Mom to like me.’

’She’s the only one I have.’

’I don’t want to be separated from Mom.’

At that thought, he suddenly turned and bolted.

Caught by surprise, Jean was knocked to the ground. His palm scraped against the floor, a sharp, stinging pain, but he ignored it and scrambled up to give chase.

But Felix was fast. By the time Jean got outside, he only caught a glimpse of his back before he rounded a corner and disappeared.

His hand clenched instinctively, and the sharp pain in his palm brought him back to his senses.

He stared at his injured hand, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he turned and headed back to the classroom.

Before long, school let out. Felix Ford, backpack on, was the first one to bolt for the exit. He glanced back and was startled to see Jean also heading for the gate. He ran even faster. The school gate had just opened a crack, and he immediately slipped through.

The security guard jumped, startled. He stood up to check, relieved that the gate hadn’t caught the boy. He scowled and called out, "Slow down! What’s the big rush?"

Felix Ford paid him no mind and threw himself into Amanda Vance’s arms. Amanda was also surprised. "What’s wrong?"

Felix Ford just shook his head frantically and pulled her toward the car. "Mom, let’s go home! Quick!"

’He’s about to come out. He’s going to tell Mom the truth, that I’m not Jean Vance, and then Mom won’t want me anymore.’

’I don’t want that.’

His face was a mask of pure panic. Amanda Vance was baffled, but she could tell she wouldn’t get an answer out of him right now, so she just let him lead her to the car.

The moment they were inside, Felix Ford urged her to hurry up and drive.

He looked so frantic he was on the verge of tears. "Okay, okay, okay," Amanda Vance soothed.

She started the car and quickly pulled away from the school. Only then did Felix Ford finally begin to relax.

At the school gate, Jean Vance watched with a cold expression as Felix pulled his mother away. He took a deep breath and turned toward the Ford family’s car.

As he got closer, he saw that Samuel Ford was there today, too, his gaze fixed on the school entrance. Jean’s heart clenched. "What are you looking at?"

Samuel Ford didn’t understand the source of his tension. "Your school seems pretty lively," he remarked.

He thought he’d seen a child come running out just now, but there were too many people, and the parents blocked his view, so he hadn’t seen anything clearly.

His gaze landed on Jean, and he noticed his scraped palm. Samuel’s brow furrowed. "Did you get into another fight?"

’No wonder he was so tense just now.’

"No." Seeing that Samuel didn’t seem to have noticed anything, Jean coolly averted his gaze. Looking down at his injured palm, he couldn’t help but think of Felix Ford again.

In that moment, some of his anger was transferred to Samuel.

At the thought, his expression grew even colder.

"What are you angry about?"

The boy’s dark mood was palpable, and it was clearly directed at him. Samuel Ford wasn’t an idiot; he could sense it. Since he couldn’t figure out why, he decided to just ask directly.

"Nothing."

Jean Vance replied, suppressing his anger.

Hearing that, even Rocco, the driver, glanced at him in the rearview mirror. ’And he says he’s not angry,’ Rocco thought. ’He should take a look at his own face, it’s as dark as a thundercloud.’

Samuel Ford glanced at him. "If you’re unhappy about something, you can tell me. If you have a problem with me, you can say it."

Jean’s head snapped toward him. The anger he’d been bottling up surged, but he forced it back down again. He had to wrench his gaze away and stare out the window, the oppressive aura around him growing even heavier.

’I can’t say anything.’

’Not a single word.’

Seeing him like this, Samuel Ford’s brow furrowed even more deeply. He told Rocco, "Head to the martial arts gym."

"Got it." Rocco deftly executed a U-turn.

Jean couldn’t be bothered to care about any martial arts gym. He just kept his neck stiffly turned toward the window, determined not to look at Samuel.

But suddenly, a hand grabbed the one resting on his lap. He flinched, instinctively trying to pull away, but the hand held him firm. A man’s deep voice sounded. "Don’t move."

Samuel Ford had produced a first-aid kit from somewhere. He turned Jean’s hand over, palm-up. In addition to the scrape, there were crescent-shaped marks from his own fingernails.

He had dug them in himself.

In fact, those marks were worse than the original scrape.

Samuel couldn’t help but glance up at him. ’Since when did he become so stoic?’

’Whatever the reason, it’s not a good sign.’

After quickly dressing the wound, Samuel didn’t say anything more and gently placed Jean’s hand back in his lap.

Jean tilted his head slightly to glance at him, then immediately averted his gaze.

’I don’t need his concern.’

’All I need is Mom.’