Chapter 107
Chapter 107:
In the taxi, she texted Gaston: Aaden in fight. School called me. Going there now. Call me.
She arrived at St. Jude’s, a fortress of a school on the Upper East Side. The atmosphere was stiff with privilege. Mothers in tennis whites glanced at her as she ran up the steps.
She was led to the Headmaster’s office.
Aaden was sitting on a wooden chair, his legs dangling. He held an ice pack to his face. His school shirt was torn at the collar.
He looked small and defiant. But when he saw Jocelyn, his lower lip quivered.
“Auntie Joss,” he whispered.
𝘈d𝘥𝗂с𝘵іv𝗲 ѕ𝘵𝗼𝘳𝗂е𝘴 𝗈n ѕ.𝗰𝗈𝗆
Jocelyn rushed to him, dropping to her knees. “Let me see p>
She gently moved the ice pack. A nasty purple bruise was forming on his cheekbone. Anger flared in her chest, hot and protective.
“Who did this?” she demanded.
“Mrs. Collins,” a sharp voice interrupted.
Ms. Trunchbull, a teacher with a face like a pinched lemon, stood with her arms crossed. “Aaden attacked another student unprovoked,” she stated coldly. “This is grounds for expulsion p>
“Unprovoked? Aaden is a sweet boy,” Jocelyn snapped, standing to face the woman. “He wouldn’t hit someone for no reason p>
“He is a savage,” the teacher sneered. “Just like his… family situation p>
The door to the inner office opened.
“I believe my nephew was the victim here p>
Jocelyn froze. She knew that voice.
Kieran Douglas walked in, looking impeccable in a navy suit, smugness radiating off him like cologne.
Behind him was a chubby boy — Kyle — who was fake-crying, rubbing dry eyes.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice, Mr. Douglas,” Ms. Trunchbull said, her tone instantly deferential. “It was fortunate you were already on campus for the Arts Center benefactor meeting p>
Jocelyn stood up slowly. The room seemed to shrink.
“Kieran,” she breathed.
“Jocelyn,” Kieran said, his smile cold and predatory. “I didn’t know you were playing nanny now p>
Kieran settled into the leather chair opposite the Headmaster’s desk, pulling Kyle onto his lap. It was a performance of paternal concern that made Jocelyn want to retch.
“Kyle says Aaden punched him because Kyle asked a simple question,” Kieran said smoothly, stroking the boy’s hair.
“He called my mom a whore!” Aaden shouted, jumping to his feet.
“Language!” Ms. Trunchbull snapped.
Jocelyn placed a hand on Aaden’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “He is defending his mother. That is a provocation p>
“His mother is… absent,” Kieran replied, dismissing the insult with a wave of his hand. “Kyle was simply curious. Kids can be cruel, Jocelyn. You know that p>
He turned to the teacher. “As we’ve discussed, Ms. Trunchbull, the school cannot tolerate this kind of unprovoked aggression. Especially when the Douglas family is the primary benefactor for the new arts center p>
The teacher nodded stiffly.
“We want Aaden suspended,” Kieran continued. “And a written apology.” He paused, letting his eyes slide toward Jocelyn. “Unless… we can settle this privately p>
Jocelyn narrowed her eyes. “What do you want p>