Sylvincolm Restaurant.
I stood there for a moment, my head tilted upward, staring at the elegant, expensive-looking signage glowing proudly above the entrance.
And yet everything was.
I still couldn't believe Sylvester. He really dumped his responsibility on me.
"Mommy, are you going to work here again?"
I looked down at Cairo, who was resting comfortably in my arms. His small fingers clutched my shirt as his curious eyes moved between my face and the grand building behind me.
"No, sweetheart," I said gently. "I'm just here to clear up some misunderstandings your uncle created."
I smiled at him, trying to sound calm and reassuring, even though my chest felt tight.
"Huh? Uncle?" He tilted his head. "Uncle Sylvester or Uncle Stephenson?"
I let out a soft laugh and simply ruffled his hair. Explaining everything to him would be pointless. He was too young to understand responsibility or how adults could casually pass their burdens to others and call it a gift.
