Winning the Heir Who Bullied Me Chapter 129

Doctor Penny Carter lives on a nice, quiet, tree-lined street in Roscoe Village.

I park Louise’s Honda in the driveway and stare up at her house—two stories tall with soft gray paint and white trim, a wide front porch with a few steps leading up, and flower boxes under the windows bursting with red and pink blooms.

Big old trees stand on either side, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. The windows reflect the warm, golden sunset.

It looks peaceful—the kind of home that raises happy children, houses a happy family.

I knock on the door once, and five seconds later, it opens.

My gaze is immediately drawn down. I blink at the caramel-skinned child before me. Her thick, curly hair is a wild halo around her face, and she pushes glasses up the bridge of her nose as she looks up at me. “Are you April?”

My lip twitches. “Are you Jackie?”

She beams, dancing on the heels of her feet. “I am!”

“Jaqueline Soo-min Carter, what have I told you about answering the—April!”

Penny skids to a halt behind her daughter, her eyes lighting up at the sight of me. She’s dressed in a pair of sweats and the same T-shirt she wore that night June had the allergic reaction.

I wave. “Hi.”

Jackie turns to her mom. “It’s June’s sister, Mom.”

Penny’s hand momentarily disappears in Jackie’s curls as she ruffles her hair. “I know. Go let June know.”

Jackie takes off into the house.

“No running!” Penny calls out, but the thundering footsteps don’t ease.

Rolling her eyes fondly, she turns back to me. “Hi, dear.” She reaches out and takes my hand. “Come in.”

As soon as I step in, an oddly nice combination of cinnamon and lemon soap hits me.

The foyer is long—a rectangle of warm hardwood floor overlain with a slightly worn rug. Two armchairs sit against the wall, three pairs of sneakers—one of which I recognize as June’s—are tucked beneath them.

Above the arch leading into the house is a large, framed picture—Penny with one arm around Jackie and another around an identical boy, who must be Jamie.

“We just finished breakfast,” Penny calls over her shoulder as we walk further into the house. “I made a lot, in case you wanted some.”

To the right is the living room. A large couch faces a simple wooden coffee table, framed on both sides by matching armchairs.

I pause, tilting my head. In the middle of the room is a blanket fort—sheets pulled over chairs and cushions, with some books stacked to hold the corners down.

Penny notices where my attention is directed and chuckles fondly. “Yeah, they made that last night when I told June you were coming today. One last hurrah.”

I turn to her, and something clogs my throat. “Did they… Did she—”

She smiles and squeezes my shoulder. “They did. *She* did.”

“Spring!”

I stagger back as June catapults into my arms.

Something pops inside me, and a pressure I didn’t even realize was there disappears like air out of a balloon.

“Summer,” I exhale, pulling my sister to me.

Her arms tighten round my waist, and I duck my head, inhaling her familiar scent, mixed with something lemony that must be detergent.

“Oh, my baby.” I kiss her hair. “I missed you so much.”

She pulls back and looks up at me, her eyes twinkling. “I missed you, too.”

I brush her hair back, my eyes zeroing in on the small two-inch scar on her temple, just below her hairline—a thin pink line, slightly raised.

There’s no swelling, and the scab is mostly healed, but the skin still looks tight and new. It stands out against the rest of her smooth face, quiet but visible.

It might fade, but it will never disappear—a constant reminder.

June swats my hand away, brushing her hair back over her forehead. She takes my hand and pulls me further into the house. “Come on.”

She takes me into the kitchen. Brightly lit and oddly clean, considering two ten-year-olds—and a nine-year-old, I guess—live here. Little crayon artworks dot the space, probably courtesy of Jamie, the artsy one.

There are dishes in the sink and a stack of pancakes on the counter. Penny piles some onto a plate and pushes it to me with a smile. “Orange juice? Tea? Coffee?”

My stomach grumbles, and I don’t have it in me to reject free food, seeing that I didn’t eat breakfast yet.

“Coffee, please.” I didn’t sleep either.

“June, hon,” Penny says, smiling at my sister. “Why don’t you go check your things, make sure you’re not forgetting anything?”

June nods and darts out of the kitchen.

“Sit,” Penny says, gesturing to the stool at the island.

She sits too, and I stab a pancake with a fork.

“Penny,” I start. “I can’t even begin to thank you—”

She waves my gratitude away. “It was my absolute pleasure. Your sister is a delight.”

She leans over and squeezes my hand. “You did an amazing job raising her, April.”

I shrug. “She raised herself.”

Penny snorts. “Yeah, all you did was care for her and work your ass off to feed her, clothe her, and give her health care.”

I take a sip of coffee to dislodge the emotion in my throat.

“Mom!” Jackie skids into the kitchen. “Can I give June my grey hoodie? It matches her eyes.”

My eyes widen. “No, you don’t have to—”

“Of course, hon.”

She grins and disappears.

I turn to Penny, appalled. “She doesn’t have to.”

She shrugs. “She has a hundred, and gift-giving is her love language.”

I sigh. “Right.”

“So listen,” Penny says. “I want to talk to you before you take June.”

I tense, my fingers curling around the coffee mug. “About…what?”

“Well…” She inhales, and I brace myself. “I want to sponsor June.”

I blink. “Huh?”

She interlocks her fingers on the counter and leans toward me. “I want to sponsor June,” she repeats.

“I—*huh*?”

She chuckles. “Am I saying it wrong?”

“No…I—why?”

Her smile is soft, tender. “I have a savior complex, remember?”

I shake my head in disbelief. “Briefly housing her is one thing, but—”

“April,” she cuts me off gently. “June is a bright child. She’s smart and sweet and so kind. If you didn’t love her so much, I would be fighting you in court to take her for myself.

My eyes widen, and Penny rushes to clarify. “I’m not, though! I would *never* take her from you. I just…” She sighs and takes my hand.

“Do you know who else is smart and sweet and kind?”

I shrug.

“You,” she says, squeezing my hand.

“And I look at both of you—how hard you work to take care of her, how understanding she is about not having much, and I want to *help*.”

My mouth opens and closes, and moisture gathers in my eyes. I don’t understand what is happening. I don’t understand *why* it’s happening.

Penny continues to talk. “If you give me an account, I’ll send monthly stipends that will cover everything from schooling, feeding, rent, medication, clothes. And I’d love it if I could still see you and June occasionally. The twins love her and want to stay friends.”

A soft sob tears out of me. In a flash, Penny rounds the counter and pulls me into her arms. The dam breaks, and I’m suddenly crying into Nathan’s doctor’s night shirt.

She strokes my hair soothingly. “It’s okay, sweetie,” she croons, like I’m her child. “You’ve been through so much. You’ve had to be strong for so long. Please let me help you.”

God, I miss my mom.

Sometimes, it’s hard to remember her—what she smelled like, how it felt to hug her, what her voice sounded like. I’m sure it’s even worse for June.

But here is Penny Carter—so unlikely, so unexpected. And she wants to help, she wants to take the weight off my shoulders.

I don’t have it in me to resist; I don’t have it in me to be strong anymore. So I lean against her and let her take the weight.