Charlotte went to the preschool to pick up Isabella, she wanted to check on how Isabella was doing. As she arrived, she spotted Isabella sitting on a picnic table with a boy. Due to the angle, she couldn't see the boy's face right away.
She greeted Isabella's teacher first, asking about how her daughter's day had been and if she has adjusted to the school. The teacher smiled warmly and reassured Charlotte that Isabella had been doing well and had been enjoying her time at the preschool.
Satisfied with the update, Charlotte turned towards Isabella. As soon as her daughter saw her, a wide smile lit up her serious little face. Charlotte felt her heart swell with love at the sight of her daughter's happiness.
But then something caught her off guard. The boy sitting next to Isabella turned his face towards Charlotte. The two kids looked so strikingly alike that Charlotte couldn't believe her eyes. It was like seeing a perfect copy of Isabella, except this child was a boy with shorter hair.
Her brain struggled to process what she was seeing. They had the same mesmerizing blue eyes, the same button nose, and even their facial expressions mirrored each other. It was uncanny.
While she was still trying to comprehend the uncanny resemblance, a familiar, mellow voice came from behind her.
"Art, I've come to pick you up."
Charlotte's heart skipped a beat as she heard the voice. She slowly turned around, and her eyes met those of the person standing before her—David, Isabella's father.
"...Mr. Smith," she managed to say, her voice slightly shaky.
David, not expecting to see Charlotte, was momentarily stunned, but his surprise quickly turned to impatience and anger.
"What are you doing here?" David's mind ran wild with the possibility that Charlotte came to claim his son, the son that she had abandoned.
Charlotte, sensing David's tension, shifted her body to protect Isabella from view. "Mr. Smith, I did not know you would be here. I came to pick up my daughter," she said, trying to maintain an indifferent look while keeping eye contact with him. She carefully held Isabella in her arms, positioning her in a way that her face was hardly visible. Isabella, being a sensitive child, picked up on her mother's strange behavior and didn't make any moves.
With Isabella's face nestled in the nook of her neck, Charlotte hugged her daughter tightly, hoping to shield her from view. "I should get going now, Mr. Smith," she quickly excused herself but maintained a steady pace to avoid arousing suspicion.
As Charlotte walked away with Isabella in her arms, she couldn't shake the feeling that this unexpected encounter might have repercussions in the future. She knew that she had to handle the situation delicately.
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