Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 322 Midwinter.

Northpoint University, Research Institute.

The first major stage of the project was finally complete. Cheers and groans echoed through the office as everyone debated where to go for their celebratory dinner.

But in the corner, Mila and the project lead had already slipped away.

"Are you sure it's okay to leave without saying anything to the others?" Mila whispered, a little worried about sneaking out.

"It's fine," Forrest replied with a gentle smile. He reached out and straightened her white knit hat, which she'd thrown on in her rush to leave.

"Make sure you wear your hat properly-you'll catch a cold," he chided softly. "Besides, I already sent the group a little bonus as a thank-you. It's my job as team lead to be everyone's personal ATM. And more importantly, I promised you I'd make hashbrowns to celebrate the end of this phase. Don't tellyou've lost your appetite?" Mila's eyes lit up at the mention of hashbrowns.

She'd loved them since she was a child, but rarely got to eat them; after running away from home, she hadn't tasted them in years, though she'd never stopped craving them. The first tshe discovered Forrest knew how to make them- pure magic.

Of course she'd been thinking about it.

She nodded eagerly. "Thanks, Fory." "You always call'Forrest' or 'senior'-but the second food's involved, you get so sweet," Forrest teased, his eyes crinkling with an easy warmth.

Mila just grinned, darted ahead a few steps, then spun around with a mischievous smile.

"Hurry up, Fory!" "I'm coming." As the sun dipped low in the sky, Forrest watched her standing in the glowing orange light-her laughter bright as a flower, her smile gentle and radiant. His own smile deepened, softening the angles of his face as the golden sunlight glinted off his glasses.

He caught up to her, laughing.

They stopped by the market to pick up groceries, then headed to Forrest's off-campus apartment.

Forrest took over the kitchen, turning out a table full of hearty, home-cooked dishes-most importantly, a generous plate of crispy hash browns and potato cakes, Mila's favorites. The meal was simple, but it couldn't have tasted better.

Afterwards, Forrest had to catch up on sproject wrap-up and prep for the next phase, as any group leader would.

They walked back to campus together.

When they parted ways, Mila strolled toward her dorm, humming a tune. From a distance, she heard a commotion up ahead, and curiosity drew her closer-until she froze in place.

A crowd had gathered outside the dorm entrance. In the middle of it, a short, plump middle-aged woman in a bright red winter coat was sitting on the ground, wailing and shrieking with a raw accent straight from Mila's hometown.

"I want to see my daughter!" "This stupid school stole my child! She never comes home, hasn't visited in years! What kind of place is this, teaching kids to abandon their parents?" "Giveback my daughter or I'm calling the police!" "Mila, get out here! Now!" "If you don't cout, I'll hang myself right here at your school! You heartless child, abandoning your own parents. I curse you-you'll never know peace!" "Haunted by evil spirits!" The woman flailed on the ground, rolling in the dirt, her hair wild, her clothes smeared with grime.

People stood around, laughing and pointing-seven pulled out their phones to take pictures.

Mila lingered at the edge of the crowd, feeling as if someone had doused her in ice water. The chill seeped all the way to her bones, leaving her dizzy and lightheaded.

She'd thought she'd forgotten.

Forgotten the family that had treated her like a commodity, eager to carve her up and sell her piece by piece, drinking her blood and devouring her flesh for a price.

She'd escaped. She'd made it all the way to Kingsford.

So how? How had they found her here?

Her breath grew shallow, panic rising in her chest-when suddenly someone spotted her and called out her name. The woman on the ground stopped wailing, scrambled to her feet, and lunged at Mila. She seized Mila's hand, sobbing loudly.

"Baby, oh my baby, I finally found you! Letsee if you've lost weight." "How can you be so cruel?"

"Your father and I raised you, and now you go off to college, living the good life, and you throw us away because we're not good enough for you? How can you treat us like this?" The woman's cries were sharp as knives, stabbing straight into Mila's mind. Nausea twisted in her stomach.

She could feel the stares-dozens of eyes fixed on her, pointing, whispering. Their looks cut into her, exposing every ugly piece of her past she'd tried so hard to bury.

She couldn't breathe.

Swallowing down her fury, Mila twisted her hand in her mother's grip, Q bent forward, her long hair hiding her face. She glared up at the woman, eyes shining with a private, ferocious warning. "I don't know what you want, but if you keep pushing me, we'll both go down together. I swear, I'll hang myself right here too." Her gaze burned-bloodshot and wild-as she stared at the woman who'd given birth to her, yet seemed so eager to consher whole.