The little boy looked at Miles with deep admiration. "My dad works at a car company, and he said your mom was exactly right."
If the earlier comment was a ripple, this one sent massive waves of pride crashing through his chest.
"Is my mom... really that awesome?"
He had fully expected to be humiliated in front of his friends today. Instead, they were all praising her, looking at him with pure envy.
His fragile little ego swelled with immense satisfaction.
Maybe Mom wasn't so useless after all.
He turned back toward the window. Catching sight of her familiar car waiting outside the gates, a huge smile lit up his sweet face.
Fine. If she promised to go apologize to Sylvie today, he would forgive her.
The dismissal bell finally rang, and the teachers began herding the children toward the front gates in an orderly line.
As soon as he was close enough, Miles yanked his hand free from his teacher's grip and sprinted toward the car on his short little legs.
He wanted to see her immediately. He needed to ask her if she really knew how to speak French.
But just as he reached the car, the driver's side door popped open, and Callie stepped out.
Seeing him dashing toward the street, Callie panicked and rushed forward to grab him. "Young master, don't run! You're going to trip!"
Miles froze in his tracks, his little brows pulling together in a tight scowl. "Callie? Why are you here? Where's my mom?"
He craned his neck, trying to peer into the backseat. Sometimes his mom brought the nanny along for the ride.
He assumed Hulda was waiting inside. But after staring through the windows for several seconds, there was no sign of her.



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