Holly Winslow, of course, noticed. Her expression instantly turned cold as she stared at Yvonne Lewis, wanting to ask her if she even had a heart.

Wyatt Winslow had done so much for her, yet here Yvonne was, criticizing him.

She was the last person who had any right to criticize Wyatt Winslow. He had been a good father, while she had failed to be a good mother—at least, not to Holly.

In Holly’s eyes, she had never been a proper mother.

"If Dad hadn’t told me to come, I wouldn’t have come to see you."

"From now on, whether it’s about me or the Lewis Family, don’t call anymore. I don’t want to answer, and Dad wants to answer even less."

The atmosphere instantly grew frigid. Mortimer Quincy looked at the young woman’s blank expression, a flicker of pain in his eyes. He reached out and took her hand.

As a mother, hearing her daughter speak to her in this tone over and over, Yvonne Lewis felt a mix of anger and sadness. "Holly, since when did you develop such a temper? I’m just concerned about you. I want to know if you’re doing okay."

’Concerned? With just words?’

’What kind of concern is that?’

Holly Winslow said nothing, but her eyes were filled with scorn.

At her unspoken accusation, Wyatt Winslow’s expression darkened. Not wanting to argue in front of his daughter, he said stiffly, "We’ll be leaving now."

After they left, Yvonne Lewis was so angry she started crying. In a low, hoarse voice, she said, "I should have fought for custody of Holly."

She had given birth to Holly. How could she not care about her?

Vincent Vance patted her back comfortingly. "Don’t take it to heart. Holly is still just a kid. When she’s older and more mature, she’ll understand where you’re coming from."

"Don’t take it personally. Why don’t you buy her some things and meet with her again tomorrow? Laura and I won’t go. That way, you two can have a proper mother-daughter talk."

Yvonne Lewis nodded. "Okay."

...

After dropping Holly and Mortimer off at home, Wyatt Winslow said he had some business to attend to and would be back late, then drove away.

Receiving Wyatt Winslow’s call, Yvonne Lewis glanced at Vincent Vance in the driver’s seat. "Okay."

She hung up. "Vincent, Wyatt wants to meet me. At the teahouse."

Vincent Vance nodded. "Go ahead."

He then turned the car around and headed back. Just before they arrived, he pulled over, took their child from her, and said, "We’ll wait for you here."

Yvonne Lewis nodded and gave the child a quick kiss. "Be good, Laura. Mommy will be back in a bit."

When Wyatt Winslow saw her, he subconsciously adjusted his glasses before saying in a low voice, "You shouldn’t have said that to Holly. She’s very mature. She’s never given me a single thing to worry about, all through high school and now university."

He paused, then continued, "And even if she weren’t mature, she’s still just a kid. You say you’re concerned about her? How much thought have you actually given her over the years?"

’If she’d really cared, why would Holly be so unwilling to answer her calls? I’ve never said a single bad word about Yvonne to our daughter.’

"You know it wasn’t convenient for me. I got pregnant, had another baby, and on top of that, I was living abroad. I wanted to be there for Holly, but I just couldn’t."

Yvonne Lewis was starting to get angry too, her tone turning sharp. "If you can’t raise Holly right, then let her come live with me."

"I won’t agree to that."

Wyatt Winslow’s voice grew deeper as he said with stubborn finality, "I will never agree to let Holly go with you."

"You wouldn’t take good care of her."

’She has another child now. How could she possibly give Holly her full attention?’

’Even if she could, I wouldn’t agree.’

’I would absolutely never agree.’

His last sentence provoked Yvonne Lewis. She said angrily, "I wouldn’t take good care of her? I was the one who took care of her for over a decade! And you? You were out working all day. Besides giving money, what else did you ever do?"

She pointed at him, her eyes red-rimmed.

Wyatt Winslow fell silent. ’So in her eyes, all I ever did was provide money? I never put in any real effort?’

’Then why was I coming home at one or two in the morning every night?’

’I was trying so hard to hold our family together...’

After a dozen seconds, he lowered his gaze. "Don’t contact me again."

Back in his car, he took off his glasses, closed his eyes, and leaned back against the headrest. Finally, he reached for a cigarette.

The car soon filled with the thick smell of tobacco smoke.

...

At 2 PM, Mortimer Quincy had to go for the third round of his written test.

Since Chloe Hollis had gone to the university, Holly Winslow’s afternoon tutoring session was canceled, so she accompanied him.

As for Wyatt Winslow, Uncle Young had picked him up to discuss business.

Otherwise, Holly Winslow wouldn’t have gone with Mortimer Quincy to the interview.

There were people taking the first-round written test today as well. Holly Winslow sat at the company’s front desk, waiting for Mortimer Quincy to finish his test. The receptionist mistook her for another applicant and handed her an application form to fill out.

She had just started to explain that she wasn’t there to apply when the receptionist was called away by someone else.

She sat for a moment, then thought, ’Might as well give it a shot, just for the experience.’ She began to diligently fill out the application. When she got to the field for her university, she no longer had to hesitate, proudly writing "Branton University."

Only someone who has been looked down on for their education could understand how proud she felt in that moment.

She would never again be rejected by a company because of her educational background.

Never again would people gossip about her education behind her back.

Holly Winslow had transferred from a vocational college to complete her bachelor’s degree.

Ten minutes later, the receptionist came to collect the applications for the initial screening. Any applications from graduates of universities below the "Tier 2" threshold were immediately set aside without a second glance.

The job posting had explicitly required a degree from a Tier 2 university or higher, but many students from lower-tier schools still came to try their luck.

But luck was no match for credentials.

This was just as her teachers had always said: education is a ladder, and the kind of ladder you build determines the stage you can reach.

Finally, the receptionist handed the remaining pile of applications to the HR manager for the next round of screening.

The HR manager hesitated for a moment upon seeing Holly Winslow’s major, but after noticing her university, he placed her application into the ’pass’ pile.

A few minutes later, Holly Winslow was led into a conference room with the other successful applicants to take the test.

Holly had learned about this company from Mortimer, so when a question on the test asked about its primary business areas, she answered it easily.

...

When Mortimer Quincy came out, he didn’t see Holly. Thinking she might have gone to the entrance, he stepped outside and looked around. He tried calling her, but her phone was turned off.

He frowned. Then, as a thought occurred to him, he went back inside and asked the receptionist, "Hi, is there a young woman named Holly Winslow taking a written test?"

The receptionist checked her records and smiled. "Yes, she’s in the middle of it right now. Are you two classmates?"

Mortimer Quincy just said, "Mhm."

The young man wore a black trench coat, his profile sharply defined. He had the features of a celebrity.

The receptionist couldn’t help but stare. Many women in the company had already noticed him. Some had even pleaded with the manager to hire him, arguing that having such an "eye-pleasing flower" around would boost office productivity.

Mortimer Quincy, of course, noticed her staring. He pursed his lips, then suddenly raised his phone to his ear and said in a gentle voice, "Hey, honey, I’ll be home soon. Okay, I’ll get you some milk tea on the way."

He didn’t notice that Holly Winslow had already come out. The first-round written test was only a third as long as the third-round test.

She happened to overhear him. She froze for a second, then glanced at the receptionist, a playful glint in her eyes.

She pulled out her own phone. "Hi, hubby, I’m back. I don’t want milk tea, I want barbecue."

Hearing her voice, Mortimer Quincy turned around. A smile touched his lips. "Alright."

Holly Winslow’s eyes crinkled with a smile. She walked up and took his hand, as if staking her claim. Mortimer Quincy naturally tightened his grip.

The receptionist froze for a second, then her gaze swept over the two of them. She was speechless.

’The company has a strict no-office-romance policy!’