The schoolyard was busy, but the classroom was empty. Parents milled around, chatting and children waited with bags slung over their shoulders.

Ryan was nowhere in sight.

A teacher packing lunch kits nearby glanced up as Isabelle approached.

“Excuse me… I’m here for Ryan Torres?”

“Oh! His grandfather’s driver picked him up earlier,” the teacher said kindly. “He’s gone already.”

Isabelle froze.

“…His grandfather?”

The teacher nodded.

Isabelle instantly pulled out her phone, fingers trembling from rage and dialed.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

Gregory answered with a voice that sounded like a man lounging in silk sheets.

“Love. What’s wrong?”

“Where are you?” She couldn’t help but ask.

He sounded a bit confused but naturally replied, “At the office.”

Isabelle released a breath of relief. Maybe, he was resting in the office lounge.

“Is something wrong? Why did you call?”

“We agreed I’d pick him up today,” she said tightly.

There was a pause and then the sound of fabric shifting, maybe a stretch.

“Sorry. It totally slipped my mind. Dad said he was going to do so today. They’ve been asking about him.”

Isabelle closed her eyes. Her fingers dug into the phone.

“You should have told me.”

Gregory chuckled faintly. “It’s nothing. Don’t be dramatic.”

She didn’t answer.

She just ended the call directly.

Her thumb trembled slightly as she lowered the phone. It was always like this. He’d dismiss her opinions and just do whatever he wanted. One second she was the mother. The next, an afterthought.

The warmth from earlier drained from her body and her high deflated into nothing. She turned to leave but just then, a flicker of movement caught her eye.

A little girl—maybe six—sat on a cold bench alone, a pastel hoodie hanging loosely from her small frame, and a backpack barely clinging to her shoulders.

Isabelle immediately found her familiar so she looked closely and indeed, it was her.

Aimee.

Isabelle paused for a few moments, watching as she sat there looking straight ahead.

‘She still looks so lost.’ She thought.

She approached the little girl slowly and spoke softly,

“Are you waiting for someone, sweetheart?”

Aimee tensed up instantly at her approach but once she looked up and saw it was her, her alertness seemed to reduce a bit. Her eyes slid past Isabelle’s face, never quite landing on it. Then, she gave a small nod but said nothing.

Isabelle crouched next to her, with a measured tone. “Mind if I sit with you?”

The girl gave another nod and still didn’t speak. Isabelle sank beside her, not quite knowing why she had approached but it was unsafe for a young girl to sit alone like this waiting for their guardian so she was going to wait till she was picked up.

Minutes passed.

More kids were picked up by their parents and soon, only a teacher and a few kids were left.

Finally, Isabelle turned to the girl who still sat with her back straight and asked. “Are you hungry?”

The girl looked up at her in a beat and then, gave a slow nod.

***

The overhead lighting of the café table was soft and tinged with gold casting warm halos on the plate of pancake and glass of warm milk sitting on the tabletop.

Aimee ate quietly in small, deliberate bites as if making sure each one was allowed.

Isabelle watched quietly as she ate. She didn’t say anything either.

Occasionally, she reached across, dabbing syrup from the girl’s cheek with a napkin. At first, the girl would flinch but after a few such movements, she just kept on chewing.

Isabelle could not help but quirk her lips at the sight. What a cute little child.

Her boy had become so temperamental these days, he’d never let her have such a moment.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed across the tiled floor.

A tall figure paused at the entrance of the café, as though they were stunned by the sight inside. He stood there for a moment watching Isabelle tuck a napkin under Aimee’s plate, her gestures almost mother-like. And across from her, Aimee, the same child who barely acknowledged most people was quietly eating, visibly calm. That alone was rare.

Isabelle suddenly felt a gaze on her so she looked up. Their eyes met and she instantly recognized him.

It was the same man from that day in the principal’s office — the one who had coldly threatened to sue all the parents for the bullying incident. Even now, his presence felt like winter in a suit.

He approached them, his expression unreadable, and pulled out the seat beside Aimee. Isabelle instantly sat up straighter, subconsciously.

Now that he was closer, she got a clearer look.

He was tall, with a lean, clean build that reeked of authority. The charcoal gray of his suit was understated but clearly expensive and his features were sharply defined with high brows, deep-set eyes, and thin lips that rarely seemed to move. His skin was pale-toned, almost cool to the eye, like marble under low light.

He wasn’t conventionally handsome, not in a loud or charming way. She couldn’t place it, but something about his face felt like a name she once knew but couldn’t recall.

Just then, he spoke.

“Thank you.”

His voice was low and smooth, but firm. “I heard from the teacher where you were. I appreciate your help.”

“I saw her by the school gate,” she explained. “She looked like she was waiting for someone… I thought she shouldn’t be alone.”

“Hm, thank you.” The man muttered again and Isabelle felt that his aura seemed a thousand better than the cold chill he was giving off on the day they were called in for the bullying.

So, she brought the matter up naturally again. “Um… about the matter that day, I’m very sorry for the harm caused to Aimee. To be honest, I still can’t believe my son would laugh at something like that but he said it wasn’t intentional. I hope you won’t hold it against him.”

He didn’t say anything at first. He just stared quietly with his hand slung over the chair, making Isabelle who had just come up with a speech off her head a bit embarrassed.

But eventually, he gave a slight nod. “No problem.”

Isabelle was finally relieved. She glanced at Aimee, who was now focused on her plate again. Then, she looked straight at the man, a bit hesitant to speak.

But, she said her mind nonetheless. “Um… Mr. Thorne…”

“Riven.”

He hadn’t let her finish speaking before he cut in so she looked confused. “Huh?”

The man stared right at her and repeated, adding a few words more this time. “You can call me by name. Riven.”

Isabelle froze. She stared at the man’s face trying to see if he was joking or something. But there was no sign of it and he had a calm look on his face.

She didn’t know how to react immediately and she gave no response. After a couple of seconds, she gave a small smile and repeated, “Mr. Thorne. Ignoring his offer.

Riven’s expression did not change at that. But, the edges of his lips seemed to quirk up. Then, he asked quite seriously, like he didn’t just tell her to call him by name. “You were about to say something earlier.”

“Ah, yes.” Isabelle could not understand what was going through his head. “Yeah, I just wanted to say maybe… just try to come earlier next time. I mean, it’s not good to have her sit alone outside the school. We’ve been here for more than 45 minutes before you arrived.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them.

Thorne Corporation.

Gregory hadn’t shut up about them that week. According to him, they ruled the business sector. Although no one knew what position this man held in the multinational company, Gregory had said only those who were at least director could use the company’s name directly.

And here she was, telling him to be more punctual like he was just another forgetful father.

She cast her gaze down immediately, murmuring a softer, “Just saying.”

But the man didn’t seem offended. In fact, the corner of his mouth lifted faintly but she missed it.

“Okay.”

The air between them turned odd from then on. Isabelle coughed gently and reached for her bag.

“Well… I should get going.”

She leaned toward Aimee and smiled. “Bye, sweetheart. Get home safe, alright?”

Aimee looked up just for a second and didn’t say anything. But her gaze followed Isabelle as she turned and walked away.

The man noticed too. His eyes also trailed after Isabelle for a beat longer than necessary.

Then, he turned to his daughter, brow slightly raised. “You like her?”

Aimee didn’t respond. She just picked up her fork again, but there was a faint shift in her expression and her eyes softened a bit.

He watched her, lips tugging upward in a rare, quiet smile.

“Okay.”

He leaned back in his seat and watched her chew carefully, already knowing she was full. Still, he asked:

“Are you done? If you are, no need to force yourself. We can take it home if you like it so much.”

She didn’t respond but she lowered her fork.

He signaled the waiter. “Pack this up. We’ll take the rest home.”