Earlier that morning...
Mrs. Lawson maintained a careful distance and kept well out of sight as she followed Rose.
The girl had been acting suspicious lately.
Leaving home earlier than usual. Returning hours after her school should have ended.
Too many lies. Too many excuses.
Mrs. Lawson's gaze remained fixed on the girl walking several houses ahead. Instead of turning toward the main road that led to the school, Rose crossed an intersection and continued deeper into the neighbourhood, taking a route that led in the complete opposite direction. She didn't hesitate or stop to think. She walked with quiet confidence that suggested this wasn't her first time making the trip.
Mrs. Lawson watched from the corner.
"I've let this go on long enough," she murmured under her breath.
She had lived in the neighbouring house long before Rose was even born. She still remembered the day Rose's parents moved into the neighbourhood, full of excitement and hope as a young married couple preparing to start a family.
She was even at the hospital when Rose's mother went into labour. The joy of a newborn's first cry had barely settled before tragedy struck. Rose's mother died from complications and she watched as the new father crumbled into pieces, unable to even bring himself to hold his daughter.
The following months, she had done everything she could to help.
She brought meals, checked on him, and offered to watch the baby whenever he needed rest.
But grief swallowed the man whole. He pushed himself into work and spiralled into depression. Unable to look after the baby himself, he hired a young nanny to care for his infant daughter.
But she had never trusted the woman.
There was something calculated behind her smiles and carefully chosen words that put Mrs. Lawson on edge from the very beginning. Even so, she never imagined the nanny would con her way into marriage.
Mrs. Lawson had argued with the father more than once. She pleaded with him to slow down and think carefully before remarrying.
But he refused to listen.
Whether it was loneliness, grief, or genuine affection, he had fallen too deeply under the woman's influence to hear anyone else's concerns.
In the end, in order to remain close to the child, Mrs. Lawson swallowed her objections and forced herself to treat the new wife with courtesy, hoping time would prove her wrong.
But as the years passed, her opinion of the nanny-turned-wife only worsened.
From what she saw, the woman was lazy, irresponsible and reckless. She seemed more interested in parties, drinking, and chasing the next distraction than looking after her young stepdaughter or her ailing husband.
A few years later when Rose's father passed away, any pretense of a caring wife disappeared almost overnight.
She became more brazen and would disappear for days at a time to who knows where. And when she was home, she filled the house with questionable people.
Strangers drifted through the house at odd hours, showing little concern for whether a young girl should be exposed to people like that.
The home no longer felt like a safe place for a child so she had to intervene and force the woman to keep her activities out of the house.
With no one else around to step in, Mrs. Lawson quietly made it her responsibility to keep an eye on the young lass.
Not as a replacement mother. But as someone who refused to look away.
She made sure the girl was eating properly, attending school, and taking care of herself. She stopped by every few days. whenever she thought the child might need help, even if it meant enduring awkward conversations and polite attempts to shoo her away.
She knew she could be overbearing. But she also knew the girl needed to know someone cared.
Her opinion of stepmother finally turned from disapproval to outright disgust when the woman announced she was sending Rose away to some no-name boarding school hundreds of miles from home without consulting anyone.
Mrs. Lawson refused to stand by.
What began as a disagreement quickly escalated into a heated argument. When words accomplished nothing, she contacted the school and child welfare services.
She refused to let the gold digging skank toss the child away from her own home. She pressed the issue and threatened to take it further until the lawyers intervened and the plan was ultimately abandoned.
That day, Mrs. Lawson had made herself a promise.
If there was no one else to protect the girl...
...then she would.
Whether Rose appreciated it or not.
Even if it made her the villain in her story.
Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt as Rose slipped into a secluded back alley and unlocked a side door near the back of the house before going inside as though she belonged there.
Mrs. Lawson remained hidden across the street as she scanned the perimeter of the property.
It was larger than most neighbouring houses—well maintained, secluded, and isolated despite being in a residential block.
Her expression darkened. "...Whose house is this?"
She briefly considered walking over there and knocking on the door. But she stopped herself.
She didn't want to barge in blindly. She needed to see who she was meeting before confronting them together. If she rushed in without understanding the situation, Rose would only become defensive.
"If she's in trouble," she muttered, "I'll know soon enough." She let out a heavy sigh and decided to wait, her eyes focused on the house.
Nearly forty-five minutes later, the front door finally opened and Rose stepped out, her face flushed. But it was the man behind her who caught Mrs. Lawson's attention.
He was tall with a lean yet muscular build, exuding a raw, masculine vigour that felt oppressive even from a distance. With just his presence alone, he dominated the space around him.
Mrs. Lawson's stomach tightened. 'Who is he?'
Then, much to her horror, the man reached out and pulled Rose into a forceful, possessive kiss. Mrs. Lawson gasped, her eyes wide as she clasped a hand over her mouth.
But the man didn't stop there. His large hand slid down and gripped Rose's behind, squeezing her butt roughly right there in the open street.
"How dare he!!" Mrs. Lawson growled under her breath, her voice a low, dangerous hiss. Her hands curled into fists as she felt a primal urge to storm over there and punch the man square in his arrogant face.
But just as she took a step forward, she stopped and watched in utter disbelief as Rose stood on her tiptoes and pressed a sweet, lingering kiss to the man's lips, a giddy, lovestruck smile plastered on her face.
Mrs. Lawson scoffed, a sound of pure disgust and confusion as she he looked away, shaking her head.
"This girl..." she muttered, her voice dripping with disappointment. "She doesn't even know he is just using her."
She waited until Rose finally turned and disappeared down the street, her hips swaying with a strange, awkward rhythm. Once the girl was out of sight, she turned her attention back to the man.
He turned and opened the large garage door on the side of the house before stepping inside with a casual, uncaring stride.
Mrs. Lawson let out a sharp, annoyed breath. "This ends today."
She crossed the street and marched up to the house, her heels clicking sharply on the pavement. She reached the garage and stepped inside the dim, oil-scented space, the heavy door still open behind her.
She scanned the area with a angry glare and finally spotted the man standing behind the car.
"You!" she barked, her voice echoing through the garage like a whip crack. "You disgusting, pathetic excuse of a man!"