"Can you raise a child well?" Byron asked, standing with a sneer in his cold eyes. "If you want a child, take him. If not, throw him away. What do you think a child is?"

"It's better than you not even being able to keep an eye on your child!" Maeve retorted.

Seeing them argue, Will jumped from the sofa, grabbing their hands. He whispered, "I shouldn't have run around. Dad, don't be angry. Impulsiveness is the devil. Anger is suicidal. Only by taking a step back can you show your masculinity. Mom, please don't lower yourself to Dad's level. Anger isn't good for a girl."

Byron was speechless. He is really my good son, he thought. To me, being angry is like committing suicide. To his mother, it's bad for her health. He doesn't even know Maeve is his mother. Whether Byron was angry or not, Maeve wasn't impressed by Will's speech. Byron's eyes darkened. He looked at Will, who was feigning obedience. "I'll deal with you later," he muttered.

Maeve was displeased. She shielded Will behind her. "What are you doing? Will just had a shock, and you want to teach him a lesson? Did you pick him up from the streets?"

"Maeve Reese, do you have to make me angry?" Byron's aura was cold. Her words had clearly struck a nerve. Others could say such things, but not Maeve.

"I was just saying," Maeve said, looking away, "Will is already suffering. It's fine if you don't feel sorry for him, but you don't have to be fierce with him."

Byron pursed his lips. 'Am I fierce? I didn't even say anything harsh,' he thought.

Seeing his silence, Maeve offered, "Will is so upset he won't leave me. Why don't you let him stay at my place tonight?"

"No," Byron said decisively. "There's no need."

Maeve was disappointed. She'd just recognized Will and didn't want to be separated from him, but she couldn't let Byron know she knew his identity.

Will took Byron's hand. "Daddy, I want to stay here tonight. Just one night, okay?"

Byron's expression didn't change. "Do you want to be with her that much?"

"Yes, yes!" Will nodded. "Please, Daddy."

Maeve looked at Byron nervously. I'll snatch Will if he disagrees. He's my son; it's not kidnapping, she thought.

"You can stay tonight," Byron said calmly. "But I'm staying too."

Maeve stammered. "Why? I don't have a place for you to sleep!" Theo's still here! What if he finds out? she thought.

Byron glanced at her. "Ms. Reese, do you think I can leave my son alone in an unfamiliar environment and give you a chance to criticize my parenting?" Maeve was speechless. 'Are those words I just accused him of digging a hole for myself? Shouldn't he be reflecting on his wrongdoings? Why is he connecting this?' she wondered. She endured it for Will's sake. She secretly gave Theo dinner, only to find him happily burping beside an empty plate of snacks. Next time, I'll control his snacks. Look at that fatty! she thought.

In the living room, Will leaned towards Byron, who was reading news on his phone. "Dad, I have a question."

"Yes?"

"What do you think of Maeve?"

Byron paused. "Why are you asking?"

Will said slowly, "Maeve is beautiful and gentle, and her cooking is delicious. She's a better marriage candidate than Miss Anderson."

Byron understood. "You want her to be your mother?"

"I'm suggesting it. Seize the opportunity," Will said seriously. "Dad, you said to always stay ahead. It's the same with marriage, right?" 'Good boy. He learns from my words,' Byron thought. A faint smile touched Byron's eyes. He ruffled Will's hair. "You're missing something: if it's worth it." 'Maeve is nice to Will because she thinks he's someone else's child. If she knows he's her son, things might change,' Byron mused.

Will was about to speak when a long, resonant "pfft" echoed from the bedroom. Both Byron and Will turned.

Maeve stood in the doorway, embarrassed. 'How could a child fart like that? Byron and Will think it was me!' she thought.

"Ms. Reese, your gastrointestinal tract doesn't seem good," Byron said ambiguously. "Seek medical attention." Maeve's face turned red.

"It wasn't me!"

"Then who?"

Thinking of Theo, Maeve couldn't speak under Byron's teasing gaze. She took the blame. 'The benefit of having Theo? I love him so much!' she thought.

Will, sensing Maeve's distress, said, "I farted. It was loud. Dad, sorry." 'Though I'm touched, you didn't need to do that,' Maeve thought. 'Stupid son,' Byron thought.

After showering, Maeve brought a blanket to the living room. "There aren't many blankets. Make do."

"The lowest temperature tonight is 35°F," Byron said calmly. "You don't have to silence me so quickly." Maeve realized what he meant. Her face reddened. She threw the blanket at him. "I said I didn't fart! How long will you remember it?" 'I wish it were 35°F. Let him freeze,' she thought. She checked the weather: 32°F. It was cold, and there was no heater.

(The remaining text appears to be a continuation of the story, but is disorganized and incomplete. Please provide the rest of the passage for editing.)