Wayne Burns held the phone, sounding like a little adult as he shared tips and tricks with Leland Burns on how to make someone happy. One spoke boldly, while the other listened intently.
Wayne Burns thought his father was hopeless. To him, his dad had a face as cold as ice, looked at people as if they were trash, and had a bad temper. In his memory, his father rarely smiled. How could a man this cold ever warm his mother’s heart?
And imagining his father lowering himself to coax someone-it was inconceivable. His father was too proud and would never do such a thing.
“Dad, when we meet Mom, leave the job of making her happy to us. We’ll make sure she’s so happy she won’t want to leave us. By then, I’ll ask Mom to bathe me and hold me and Shawn while we sleep,” Wayne said, his young mind already teeming with plans.
Leland Burns indeed wanted his children to play a bigger role in making Winifred Dawson stay. He hoped to use the children to draw her in, to trap her emotionally.
But if Winifred Dawson focused all her attention on the children, Leland wouldn’t be satisfied. What he truly wanted was for Winifred to spend most of her time with him.
Over the years, raising children had softened Leland’s temper considerably.
Yet, at his core, he was still the same domineering and decisive man.
To love someone is to possess them, to want to control them.
He couldn’t bear to share Winifred Dawson with anyone-not even their two children. He didn’t even want her to spare them an extra glance.
“Wayne Burns, you’re talking too much. Have you finished your homework today?” Leland interrupted Wayne in a calm yet commanding tone.
Leland’s parenting style was strict and unrelenting. At just four years old, the children had already been assigned homework-reciting texts in the morning and practicing writing in the afternoon. Free time was scarce. Outsiders often worried that such rigorous discipline might harm the children.
However, the two boys adapted quickly. Both were bright and quick learners, and under Leland’s strict upbringing, they not only thrived but excelled, learning more and more with each passing day.
Still, no child naturally loves constant studying. Even the clever Wayne Burns occasionally wanted to skip lessons. When his father brought up homework, his whole demeanor deflated, like a wilting eggplant.
Wayne often felt that his father didn’t care about his or his brother’s well-being-only their studies.
“I haven’t finished it yet,” Wayne admitted.
“Then go finish it. I’ll check it when I get back this afternoon,” Leland replied.
“I know, Dad,” Wayne muttered. Though he was sharper and more mischievous than his younger brother, Shawn, he could tell from his father’s tone that Leland wasn’t pleased.
Why was Dad unhappy? Wayne’s little mind spun in circles before landing on a conclusion. It was probably because they were going to meet Mom today, and she hadn’t paid much attention to him. Serves him right! Adults who treat kids poorly can’t expect to win a wife’s favor.
Or maybe Dad was upset about something Wayne had said earlier-perhaps afraid that Wayne would steal Mom’s love and attention. Was he jealous?
The bond between father and son is a strange thing, and Wayne somehow stumbled upon the truth.
Standing on a small stool, Wayne held the phone receiver and said goodbye to his father in his childlike voice.
“Goodbye, Dad.” He turned to his younger brother, Shawn, who was looking up at him pitifully. Handing over the receiver, he said, “Here, little brother, say goodbye to Dad.”
Shawn obediently did as he was told. “Goodbye, Dad.”
“Hmm,” Leland replied on the other end.
Once Wayne heard his father’s response, he hung up the phone and jumped off the stool.
He grabbed his brother’s tiny hand and led him to the study on the first floor-a room Leland had specifically set up for their lessons. It was filled with books and materials, neat and orderly. The boys were disciplined and never needed supervision. When the alarm clock rang, they would head straight to the study without being told.
“Brother, did Dad say when we’ll see Mom?” Shawn asked.
“Dad said we’ll see her when we get back, so we shouldn’t worry. Little brother, we need to be on our best behavior when we meet Mom, so she’ll like us. We can’t rely on Dad for that.”
Shawn nodded obediently. “Do you think Mom will like us?”
“Don’t worry, leave it to me. We just need to make sure she doesn’t dislike or fear us at first. Once she gets to know us, she’ll like us. Look at all the uncles and aunts taking care of us-they like us, don’t they?”
“That’s different. They’re paid to like us,” Shawn pointed out.
Wayne thought for a moment. That made sense. Then he concluded, “Fine, when we meet Mom, we’ll give her all the money in our piggy banks. That way, maybe she’ll like us sooner.”
…
Winifred Dawson returned home safely. Around noon, she received a call from a delivery person. This time, she was more cautious, triple-checking that it really was a delivery before opening the door.
Garrison Reeves, worried she might skip lunch, had ordered food for her.
It was her favorite stir-fried dishes. Along with the food, there was another bag containing a box of ointment for external injuries.
Without thinking much of it, Winifred set the food on the table, snapped a picture, and sent it to Garrison Reeves with a message:
“I got the delivery and I’m about to eat. Thank you for ordering my favorite dishes.”
As she picked up her chopsticks, her phone buzzed. Garrison replied quickly:
“I didn’t order that food. Don’t eat it.”
Winifred froze. If he didn’t order it, then who did? Her mind immediately went to one person-Leland Burns.
The delivery person couldn’t have made a mistake. He had confirmed her name and phone number multiple times and even had her sign for it.
Realizing this, Winifred broke out in a cold sweat and quickly tried to cover her tracks.
“The delivery guy just called to say he sent it to the wrong address. I thought it was from you. Good thing I didn’t eat it-I’ll return it right away.”
Garrison felt suspicious but couldn’t pinpoint why. Still, he trusted Winifred completely and believed she wouldn’t lie to him.
“Maybe the delivery guy was rushed and made a mistake,” he replied.
That explanation seemed plausible. But as Winifred stared at the food, her appetite vanished. The thought that it was from Leland made her nauseous. She didn’t even glance at the ointment before throwing it straight into the trash. She dumped the food into the garbage too, planning to take it out later. Out of sight, out of mind.
Just as she finished, a text from Leland arrived, haunting her like a shadow.
“How was the food? Did you like it?”
It seemed Leland had a strange obsession with sending her meals and watching her eat. What baffled her most was how perfectly the meals matched her tastes every time.
Could this really be a coincidence? Once, maybe. But every single time?
Winifred had been convinced she didn’t know Leland before, but now she was beginning to doubt herself.
The only person who truly knew her past was Garrison Reeves. Perhaps she could test the waters.
“If you don’t reply to my question within five minutes, I’ll come to your house and ask you in person,” Leland’s next text threatened.
Panicking, Winifred called him immediately. “I received it. It was delicious. Thank you, Mr. Burns.”
Her thanks sounded insincere, clearly just an attempt to appease him.
Leland chuckled softly. “I thought you’d forgotten the lesson from this morning already.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
“I noticed earlier that you were injured. The ointment is for you-make sure to use it.”
She wondered how he had even noticed her injuries. She had been wearing long sleeves and pants the entire time.
She underestimated Leland’s attention to detail. From the way she ate, walked, knelt, and even how she handled the knife, he had observed her every move. He had even intentionally brushed against her a few times to confirm his suspicions.
That morning, their interaction had been tense and confrontational. Leland hadn’t mentioned her injuries then, knowing that offering concern would make him seem weak. He understood Winifred too well-she was the type to take advantage of any perceived softness.