Chapter 45

Rumors have a way of twisting as they spread.

Emily Johnson eyed the woman before her—a thick-necked, scowling figure—and felt her stomach churn. Margaret Wilson, Peter Wilson's mother, was clearly here to make trouble.

"Mom, don't engage with her," Emily said, shielding David behind her. The little boy clenched his tiny fists, his eyes wide with defiance.

"Spit!" Margaret hocked a glob onto the ground. "You little hussy! Get my son out of jail right now!"

David stomped his foot. "Don’t you dare talk to my mom like that!"

"Oh ho! The brat’s got a mouth on him?" Margaret rolled up her sleeves, ready to lunge.

Just then, hurried footsteps echoed from outside the gate.

"Grandma’s here!" Tommy’s high-pitched voice rang out from behind the gathering crowd.

Mary Stone stormed into the yard, with Grace and Jack trailing behind her like ducklings.

"Margaret Wilson!" Mary bellowed. "Your son got caught stealing, and you have the nerve to cause a scene?"

Seeing the tide turn against her, Margaret plopped onto the ground and wailed, "Oh, heavens above! Bullying a poor widow and her child!"

"Cut the act!" Mary grabbed a fistful of Margaret’s hair and yanked. "Get up and speak like a decent person!"

"Ow—!" Margaret howled. "You useless girls, help me already!"

Two timid girls shuffled forward, only to be blocked by Grace and Jack.

Emily watched the farce coldly. "Mrs. Wilson, your son was caught red-handed breaking into homes. This tantrum won’t change anything."

"Lies!" Margaret thrashed, trying to lunge at Emily. "You’re the one who framed him!"

Mary tightened her grip, making Margaret gasp. "Say one more word, I dare you."

The villagers murmured among themselves:

"Peter stole and still acts entitled?"

"Heard he even tried to hit a kid!"

"Serves him right!"

Realizing she was losing, Margaret suddenly flopped onto the ground. "I can’t go on! The Stone family is bullying me!"

Emily nearly laughed. The dramatic flailing reminded her of the scam artists from her past life.

"If you want to die, do it somewhere else!" Mary kicked her without hesitation. "Don’t dirty my yard!"

Margaret sprang up like a fish out of water, jabbing a finger at Mary. "You’ll regret this!" Then she scurried off, her two nieces scrambling after her.

"Mom, are you okay?" Emily steadied Mary, who was panting from the scuffle.

"Fine!" Mary patted her hand. "That’s how you deal with a shrew!"

David and Tommy clung to their grandmother’s legs. "Grandma’s the best!"

Grace and Jack chimed in, "Aunt Emily, we protected you!"

Warmth spread through Emily’s chest. This family might be poor, but they stood together.

In the distance, Margaret’s fading curses went ignored. The sun dipped low, and the rich scent of stewed meat wafted from the house, making mouths water.

"Come on, let’s eat!" Mary waved them inside, herding the children toward the door.

Emily glanced back at where Margaret had disappeared, her gaze turning icy. This wasn’t over yet.