Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 248

The moment Fallon saw Theodore, her tears began to fall even harder.

Theodore, oblivious to what had happened, glanced around the living room. “Cici? What are you doing here?”

Cecilia had already pulled her feet off the coffee table and, with a sugary-sweet “Theo,” flung her arms open and threw herself at him with a dramatic sigh. “Theo, I haven’t seen you in days. I missed you so much… We all missed you! But since you don’t bother with us, I had no choice but to come find you myself.”

Watching her flutter toward him like a lovesick bird, Theodore’s voice softened. He smiled. “Didn’t I tell you I’ve been tied up with other things these past few days?”

“Hmph! You’ve just forgotten about us.” Cecilia pouted and clung to his arm, but her attention quickly shifted when she spotted the large bags Theodore was carrying. “Wow, Theo, you bought all these clothes?”

“Yeah,” he replied, carrying the bags inside and setting them down.

Seizing the moment, Fallon quietly slipped out the front door.

The click of the door caught Theodore’s attention. He suddenly realized something was wrong and called out, “Fallon!”

But Cecilia tugged him back. “She’s just a maid! If she wants to leave, she should at least say goodbye. So rude! Theo, why are you even calling after her? Don’t forget, you’re the one in charge here!”

“That’s not really fair,” Theodore said with a small shake of his head and a wry smile. “There’s no such thing as ‘servants’ these days. People like Fallon are just employees, like anyone else at the office. I hired her, that’s all.”

“She works for you, you pay her—she’s a maid!” Cecilia insisted stubbornly, already rifling through the bags of clothes.

Right then, Theodore stepped aside and dialed Fallon’s number.

She answered from the back seat of a car, already on her way to the hospital. “Yes, sir?”

“Thank you, sir. I’m just opening a small place—nothing compared to what you do.” Fallon glanced at her daughter, who was pressed close against her side, her eyes brimming with confusion. Not wanting to break down completely, Fallon quickly ended the call.

Marcia gazed up at her, puzzled. “Mom, why didn’t you tell him it was that lady who burned me?”

Fallon hesitated, words catching in her throat.

She wanted to explain that not even the lady of the house could win an argument with Cecilia in front of Theodore, let alone the two of them. At most, Theodore would have handed them some money and sent them away.

But she couldn’t bring herself to say something so hopeless to her daughter—it wasn’t right.

Instead, she pressed a kiss to Marcia’s forehead. “You’ll understand when you’re older, sweetheart.”