Flynn Taylor turned around and went upstairs.
He had just stepped into the second-floor hall when Flynn Taylor hurriedly looked toward the first row. The woman with black hair and black eyes was still there, and at that moment, a black-haired child was standing face to face with her. The child even said childishly, "Monica, I've told you, I'm not your son."
This childlike voice struck Flynn Taylor's heart like pearls falling on a jade plate, as he slowly made his way toward Monica.
"Alan!" Monica's eyes filled with sorrow as she nearly choked on the name of the little creature.
The Sophia who had comforted Flynn Taylor was even trying to persuade the boy, "Alan, don't break your mother's heart. Look how much your mother loves you."
Some other mothers said, "Alan, stop making trouble, listen to your mother."
"Alan, yesterday, your mother fell and hurt her forehead trying to get medicine for your treatment. How can you treat your mother like this?"
