Chapter 586 BoBo and CiCi Learn About Their Origins
As CiCi spoke, her eyes blazed with indignation and anger. Her little hands balled into fists, poised to strike again, though she managed to restrain herself.
Her words left the classroom in stunned silence. Everyone stared, not daring to make a sound. BoBo stood beside her, jaw clenched, glaring at Eric with a mixture of hurt and frustration.
A flicker of embarrassment crossed Willow's face, but Eric remained defiant. With his mother present, he had found his courage, displaying an arrogance unbecoming of a four-year-old.
"What's it to you?" Eric's voice dripped with challenge. "I'm going to say it! What I said was true anyway, that's what my mom—"
Before he could finish, Willow clamped her hand over his mouth. "That's enough!" she snapped, shooting an uncomfortable glance at Yvette while maintaining her grip on her son.
Yvette felt as though she'd been struck. She hadn't expected a four-year-old could speak with such deliberate cruelty toward classmates. Anger flooded her face as her brow furrowed deeply. Her hands clenched until her knuckles turned white, her breathing quickened, and her chest heaved with the effort of maintaining control.
Though Yvette wanted nothing more than to reprimand Eric, she knew maintaining composure was paramount. Children's words, after all, often reflected their parents' behavior. Eric's unfinished sentence surely meant that these were things Willow had told him.
Taking several deep breaths to calm herself, Yvette maintained a veneer of composure despite her inner turmoil.
"Ms. Hernandez," she said with forced restraint, "I believe you now understand why the children were fighting."
Willow shifted uncomfortably but refused to apologize. "Kids say thoughtless things," she said defensively, her face flushing. "You're an adult—why take it so personally?"
Her deflection was transparent—an attempt to absolve her child of blame while painting Yvette as the aggressor.
"Ms. Hernandez," Yvette replied with a cold smile, "first and foremost, I believe a mother should teach her child to respect others, not cover for them to save face."
Willow bristled at the direct criticism. "That's not covering. Children repeat things they hear without understanding. It's innocent—kids will be kids."
"If children don't know better, shouldn't adults?" Yvette countered, her voice dropping. "Eric's insults were inappropriate. You should apologize."
"Apologize? For what?" Willow protested. "Your two children attacked mine first! They ganged up on him—two against one!"
Yvette's demeanor darkened further. "My children don't start trouble, but they certainly won't back down from it. If you're unwilling to resolve this from the children's perspective, Ms. Hernandez, then perhaps we adults should handle it differently."
Sensing the escalating tension, Seraphina quickly intervened. "Ms. Hernandez, before you arrived, BoBo and CiCi acknowledged they shouldn't have resorted to physical confrontation. If Eric apologizes, they're prepared to do the same."
Willow's expression soured. "Ms. Everly, surely you don't think this is my child's fault?"
"Both sides made mistakes," Seraphina urged. "Let them apologize to each other and put this behind us."
"Put it behind us?" Willow fumed. "How does that work? A few sorry words and my son's injury just disappears?"
Realizing Willow was being deliberately difficult, Yvette decided to end the fruitless exchange.
"Since this is your attitude," she said, fixing Willow with a penetrating stare, "I'll be looking into exactly what Eric was about to say. I hope your family is prepared to take responsibility for your words." She turned to Seraphina. "I'm sorry for the trouble, Ms. Everly. I'll contact Ms. Hernandez separately—you needn't worry about it further."
Seraphina sighed. "Mrs. Valdemar, I'm so sorry about all this."
Yvette shook her head with a faint smile, gathered her children and their belongings, and left the preschool.
As Yvette walked away with BoBo and CiCi, Willow's expression grew increasingly irritated.
Eric tugged at his mother's sleeve. "Mommy, they're going home. I want to go home too."
Willow looked down at the bruise forming on Eric's forehead and felt a surge of frustration. She swatted his hand away. "What were you thinking, talking like that? It's all your grandmother's fault—she spoils you rotten and fills your head with gossip. You're nothing but trouble for me!"
Recalling Yvette's composed demeanor, Willow suddenly felt uneasy. What had Yvette meant by those final words?
In the car outside the preschool, Yvette turned to look at her children. Both sat with downcast eyes.
BoBo's fists were clenched, his lips trembling slightly as he fought to control his emotions. CiCi, normally so animated, sat in uncharacteristic silence, her eyes filled with sadness.
Before Yvette could speak, CiCi looked up. "I'm sorry, Mommy. I didn't mean to tell you," she said regretfully. "BoBo said we shouldn't let you know what Eric said, but I was so angry I blurted it out."
"Sorry for worrying you, Mommy," BoBo added quietly.
The more mature her children acted, the more Yvette's heart ached. She'd never imagined they would face such cruelty at preschool.
Taking a deep breath, she softened her voice. "I'm fine. But what about you two? Are you upset?"
BoBo and CiCi exchanged glances before simultaneously nodding, their little mouths turned down.
Yvette gently stroked their heads. "Darlings, you need to understand—you were born and raised surrounded by love. For certain reasons, you didn't grow up with your father at first, but with David instead. Do you understand?"
BoBo blinked in surprise, his narrow eyes—identical to Albert's—suddenly filling with tears.
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