Facade of Love (Yvette Scott and Idris Young)
Chapter 443 Mom's Still Mad

Mom was still mad at me. That much was clear...

"Boom..." March was prime time for spring showers, and a few rumbles of thunder later, the dark sky opened up with a light drizzle.

The chill was bad enough, but the rain made it bone-deep cold, and I could not stop shivering.

Gregory had left his phone with me when he left, but who could I call at this ungodly hour without rudely waking up? It dawned on me that I could not remember when this happened, but I seemed to have run out of people to reach out to.

Huddled up by the Scotts' front door, I found a spot where the rain could not quite reach, wrapping my arms around myself to stay as warm as possible. Just a few more hours, and it would be light.

Maybe it was the deep chill of the night that made those hours stretch on, feeling like an eternity.

Time blurred until the drizzle turned into a torrential downpour. I curled up tighter, but my clothes still got soaked, and I was shivering from the cold.

At least it was not long before the sky started to lighten, and the early risers began to stir, some cars and footsteps breaking the silence.

Looking like a drowned rat, I could not help but catch the odd looks of people passing by. I tried to look less miserable, but who was I kidding?

Thinking of the time Mom usually got up, I pressed the doorbell. It echoed a few times before a voice finally answered faintly from the yard. "Coming, coming."

That voice... was not Mom's.

Hesitating, the gate swung open, and there stood Alice with her pretty face.

I froze, and so did she, but then she managed a smile and said, "Ms. Scott, you're here."

She said, 'you're here,' not 'you're back.'

Something about that did not sit right with me. Why was she at the Scotts'? As she nodded slightly, my thoughts flew to Idris, and I blurted out, "How's Idris?" She just nodded again, blocking the doorway, clearly not about to invite me in.

"Alice, who is it? Little Sanchez?" Mom's voice floated from the yard.

Hearing her after so long made my heart twist, and I wanted to shout for her, but my voice caught in my throat.

When Mom's voice reached her ears, Alice stepped aside and called out to the backyard, "It's not Maxwell, Godmom."

"Then who..." Mom's voice trailed off as she caught sight of me.

Our eyes locked, and all the missing pieces of my heart came rushing back like a tidal wave. I looked at her, my eyes stinging and my throat too tight to speak. Mom looked thinner, her face worn and weary.

"Mom!" It took forever, but I finally managed to replace my voice. I wanted to rush over, hug her, and tell her about all the crazy adventures I had had while I was away. However, just as I moved to step closer, her face turned impassive. She stared at me and said icily, "Don't call me mom. I'm not your mother, Yvette. Did you forget? Two months ago, you declared we were no longer mother and daughter."

My hand, which had reached out for her, hung in the air, frozen. A sharp pain jabbed at my chest, and I pulled my hand back, staring at her unyielding expression. The foot I had set into the house slowly retreated.

Back then, I thought I would never get the chance to come home again, so I said those cruel words. I was scared Lucas would use her against me, so I did it. However, here I was, back in a way I never imagined.

"Mom..."

"Alice, shut the door. We don't welcome outsiders here." Mom did not even let me get a word in before she spun around and walked into the living room.

I just stood there, watching her walk away, feeling like my heart was being carved up over and over.

"Ms. Scott, I'm so sorry." Alice gave me a pained look as she reluctantly closed the front door.

The cold wind kept coming in waves, and as I stared at the iron gate, I could not even cry. I never imagined my homecoming would be like this.

"Yvette." The sound of my name snapped me out of my daze, and I turned to see Maxwell standing there, as drop-dead gorgeous as ever.

His eyes sparkled when he saw me, and he closed the distance between us in a few quick strides. "When did you get back? Why didn't you give me a heads-up?"

He frowned, noticing my soaked, shivering form. "Your clothes are drenched! You're freezing. You're not trying to die here, are you?"