Chapter 1128: Una's Breakdown

Hannah chatted with Susan for a long time. They left only after dinner, settling into the car. Hannah, her back still turned to Oscar, watched the familiar streets of Kensbury blur past, neon lights flashing through her thoughts.

"Do you want to go see your parents?" Oscar asked.

Hannah shook her head. "No need." She feared disappointing them until things settled.

"Okay," Oscar replied, instructing the driver to proceed directly to the airport.

They arrived back in the capital late, around 10 PM. As Hannah entered the lobby, Salem rushed to her, hugging her thigh tightly. "Mom!" he exclaimed, clinging to her leg as if afraid she'd vanish again. He'd been texting Oscar incessantly after school, anxiously asking about her return. Fortunately, Oscar hadn't lied; he'd waited patiently, refusing to let go of Hannah's thigh even after she affectionately touched his head. The little boy had waited for her until this hour.

Hannah crouched, preparing for a hug from Salem, when a small voice piped up beside her, "Mom."

She turned to see Una, in a pink dress, her large, sparkling eyes full of hopeful anticipation. Hannah fell silent, unsure how to respond. Una's expression fell. Why could her brother call "Mom," but not she? Was Mom upset she hadn't waited up last night?

Una's eyes instantly filled with tears. The child's resemblance to Cian was striking, a testament to the strong Wells family genes. Salem, conversely, bore a striking resemblance to Oscar, leading people to assume they were blood relatives. Hannah realized Oscar hadn't told them everything.

Oscar called softly, "Una, come here to Dad."

Una looked at Hannah with hopeful eyes, but receiving no response, went to Oscar, crying in his arms. Hannah pursed her lips. If she were still with Oscar, she would treat Una as her own child, Cian's daughter. But their separation altered that.

"It's late, Sal. Let's go to bed," Hannah said.

Salem, sensitive to the coldness between Hannah and Una, glanced at his crying sister but said nothing, following Hannah to her room. He seemed distracted; Hannah sensed his unspoken concerns. After removing his coat and tucking him into bed, she asked, "Did you shower?"

"Yes, when you were with Dad."

"Then let's go straight to sleep."

"Can I still sleep with Mom?"

"Of course! You can always sleep with me when I'm here."

"What about... Una?" Salem asked, looking at Hannah.

Hannah smiled gently. "Una can't join us tonight."

"Don't you like Una?"

"No."

"Why do you treat me differently? She likes Mom too!"

"Hasn't your dad told you everything yet?"

"He has," Salem replied seriously. "Una isn't my real sister. My real sister couldn't be only half a year younger than me. Dad said Uncle Cian had a daughter, Una, who came home after he passed away. So we have to treat her like my sister."

Hannah was surprised Oscar had revealed so much.

"So Mom isn't Una's mom. Una can't call me that," Hannah explained.

"But..."

"Don't worry, honey. Your dad's taken care of this. Your job is to be a good boy and sleep well."

Salem nodded obediently. He was a sweet child, listening attentively. He settled into the covers before drifting off.

"Mom will come after showering. Good night," Hannah murmured, tucking him in.

"Okay, Mom. Good night."

Hannah went to the bathroom, sighing at the memory of Una's hurt eyes. She felt uneasy, but considered it Oscar's responsibility to handle.

Salem was already fast asleep when she returned; he'd been tired from his late night. Hannah pondered the situation before heading to Oscar's door. As she reached it, it opened, revealing Oscar comforting Una.

Una was still crying.

"Una, don't cry."

"Mum doesn't like me anymore," she wailed.

"She doesn't dislike you. Mum just..."

"She just loves Sal more..."

Una cried harder. Oscar seemed flustered. While Una had been pampered, Salem, though tougher, wasn't unreasonable. Usually, coaxing soothed Una, but tonight, nothing worked.

Oscar understood. Una had longed for a mother, and now believed she'd been rejected.

"Una, she's not your mother," Oscar finally said. For a five-year-old, the topic might be inappropriate, but some knowledge was necessary.

Una's crying ceased. She blinked through her tears, "Why isn't she?"