A thought flashed through her mind.
Child abuse.
Charlotte stopped in her tracks, glancing back at Hans, who was curled up behind the flowerbed, quietly sobbing. She hesitated for half a minute before walking over.
Hans wiped at his tears, only to see someone holding out a tissue to him.
He looked up, dazed for a few seconds, then pushed her hand away. "You're a bad person. I don't want anything from you!"
Charlotte didn’t take offense. “If I were really a bad person, I would’ve thrown you out of here already.”
Hans clenched his little fists, his lips trembling as he stayed silent.
“How did you get hurt on your leg?” she asked.
At that, Hans quickly tugged down his pant leg to hide it, unease and fear flashing in his eyes.
Charlotte caught the look on his face. “Was it your mother who did this to you?”
“…No,” he whispered, barely audible.
His mom only hit him because he misbehaved. She loved him, didn’t she?
“Did you tell Mr. Howard?”
“Mom never hurt me! Never!” Hans suddenly clapped his hands over his ears and bolted away.
Charlotte realized she might have crossed a line. After all, he wasn’t her child—why was she even getting involved?
She was about to leave when she nearly ran into Genevieve head-on. Genevieve saw Hans running off in tears, then spotted Charlotte, and immediately assumed the worst. “Charlotte, why are you picking on a kid? Even if you can’t stand Tricia’s son, you have no right to kick him out, do you?”
“Kicking him out?” Charlotte couldn’t help but laugh. “If I really wanted to do that, do you think you’d have any say in the matter?”
“You—” Genevieve’s face darkened. The memory of the previous night’s events made her glare with resentment. “Just because Grandma likes you, don’t get too full of yourself! I’m warning you—my brother adores Hans. If Hans is ever hurt, he won’t let you off the hook!”
“Fine by me.” Charlotte brushed right past her, unbothered. “If you’ve got a problem, go whine to Evander.”
She ignored Genevieve and walked away without looking back.
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