Chapter 322

The phone rang only once before Alexander picked up. "School's over?"

"Yes!"

Alexander's voice softened. "Missing your mom?"

"Uh-huh."

"You didn't call her yet?"

A chuckle came through the line. "Go ahead and call. She'll answer today."

Sophia's eyes sparkled. "Really?"

"Absolutely. Call her."

"Okay!"

The moment she hung up, Sophia dialed Isabella's number with trembling fingers.

Isabella froze when she saw the caller ID.

Though they'd met twice recently—once when Eleanor took a fall and was hospitalized, and again at the Graves residence—those encounters didn't count toward their usual monthly visits.

It had actually been over six weeks since they'd properly met.

With a deep breath, she answered. "Sophia, are you—"

"Mom!" The sheer delight in Sophia's voice cut her off mid-sentence.

Isabella's fingers stilled on her mouse.

Two heartbeats passed before she managed to respond. "I'm here. Just finished school?"

"Yes! Mom, where are you? I wanted to call earlier but thought you'd be too busy."

"Dad said you'd definitely pick up today. Are you coming home?"

Isabella exhaled slowly. "I'm still at work. Later I'm heading to Grandma's. Do you want to go there or—"

"Wherever you go, I go!"

"Alright." A pause. "Go to Grandma's first. I'll join you after work."

"Perfect!"

The moment she ended the call, Isabella shut down her computer and grabbed her purse.

Sophia heard the car before it even pulled into the Sinclair driveway.

She sprinted outside and launched herself into Isabella's arms. "Mom!"

"Mmm." Isabella lifted her effortlessly.

Margaret appeared in the doorway, smiling. "Perfect timing, Isabella. Dinner's ready."

"Coming."

At the table, Sophia sat glued to Isabella's side.

After three bites, she blurted out, "You haven't cooked for me in forever! Can you make dinner tomorrow? I miss your food."

The truth stung. Since deciding to divorce Alexander, home-cooked meals for Sophia had become rare. And during Sophia's visits to the Sinclair house, Isabella had always been swamped with work.

"Alright," Isabella agreed quietly.

Their social circle remained oblivious to Victoria's interference, so Margaret and Charles never heard about Sophia's growing attachment to the Kensington woman.

But even before Sophia returned from abroad, the elders had anticipated this possibility.

It displeased them, naturally.

Yet they understood—Sophia was just a child, unaware of the decades-old feud between the Sinclairs and Kensingtons.

When Isabella lost the custody battle, Margaret and Charles feared the separation would erode the mother-daughter bond.

Now, watching Sophia cling to Isabella like ivy to stone, their relief was palpable.