CHAPTER 20: CHAPTER 20: INTERROGATION ROOM

Jean Ellison turned her head to look over, and upon seeing the girl’s face, she immediately stood up, her lips trembling as she called out.

"Jesse."

Jesse Ellison stood on the opposite side of the road, tilting her little head as she looked at her, holding a plush rabbit with long ears in her hand.

She was dressed in a pink dress with lace trimmings, clean white knee-high socks on her legs, and light gray kidskin shoes on her feet.

She was alone, without a nanny, and Jules Ellison was not around.

Jean crossed the street, walking quickly towards her, her emotions running high.

Vic followed closely behind, asking, "Who’s this child?"

Jean remained silent, walked to Jesse’s side, stretched out her hand but dared not hug her for fear of scaring her.

She squatted down, her expression gentle, her eyes glistening with tears.

"Jesse, why are you here alone? Where are your mom and dad?"

Jesse’s large, dark eyes looked at her curiously as she spoke in her childish voice, "Dad and mom are talking to the doctor."

Jean looked to the side, noticing a private children’s hospital not far away.

"I’ll take you back. They’ll be worried if they can’t find you."

She stood up, and a small, pudgy hand tugged at the hem of her shirt from behind, giving a gentle shake.

"Auntie, are you Jesse’s mom?"

Jean, with her back to her daughter, trembled slightly at the shoulders, and tears welled up in her eyes. She quickly raised her hand to wipe the tears from her face.

Turning around, she took hold of Jesse’s arm.

"Who told you that?"

Jesse shook her head, blinking her big eyes, her long lashes curled in a natural arc, making her look like a beautiful doll.

"Jesse guessed it herself."

She thought this pretty aunt’s eyes looked a lot like her own.

She had always known that her current mom and dad were not her real parents. She overheard the kindergarten teacher chatting during her nap.

The teacher said she was lucky to be adopted by the Jennings family.

She asked a boy in her class and learned that adoption means her original parents didn’t want her anymore, abandoned her, and she was picked up by her current parents.

She was a child who had been picked up.

There were also grandparents living in the nice house who never let her call them that. Mom made her call the grandma, but the grandma ignored her and walked past as if she hadn’t heard.

Jean felt a stabbing pain in her heart and bit her lower lip, holding her in her arms.

She didn’t know how to respond to her daughter’s words.

If she admitted it, what could she say if Jesse asked why her mom hadn’t appeared all these years?

And if Jesse asked where her dad was, how could she answer that?

Jesse’s stomach growled.

Jean quickly asked her, "Jesse, what do you want to eat?"

Jesse shook her head. She was a bit hungry but couldn’t decide what she wanted; it was always the aunt who cooked that decided.

"Miss Ellison, I’ll go to the supermarket to get the child something to eat, you watch her first."

With that, Vic turned and left.

The towering man discreetly wiped the corner of his eye. So, Miss Ellison had been separated from her child; no wonder she rarely mentioned her daughter in front of him.

Jesse, well-behaved and understanding, took the initiative to hold Jean’s hand, pointing to a fried rice stall across the street.

There was a seat, and they could go sit down.

The light at the intersection was red, and they hadn’t had a chance to cross the road yet, when a group of people rushed out from the entrance of the children’s hospital.

Four burly bodyguards in suits and a middle-aged nanny carrying a mommy bag.

Jules looked around anxiously, her face pale, Ian Jennings stood beside her, holding her arm.

"Jesse, Jesse, my child..."

"Hurry, report to the police!"

Within a moment of looking back, her daughter, who had been following her, had disappeared.

"Jesse!"

Jules saw on the zebra crossing beside her that a young woman was holding Jesse’s hand as the green light turned on.

She broke free from her husband’s hand and rushed out hysterically.

Several bodyguards reached the opposite side of the road before her, startling Jean, who hurriedly picked up Jesse in her arms. Jules ran over and snatched the child from her hands.

"Jesse, are you okay? Did you get hurt? You scared mommy to death."

Jesse, being held by her, pouted slightly and lowered her head without speaking.

"Cousin?" Jean called her, looking reluctantly at the nanny as she took the child from Jules.

"Don’t call me cousin, you’re nothing but a child trafficker! Trying to steal the child, isn’t your prison sentence long enough?"

Jules was furious, her eyes red as she rebuked her.

"I didn’t steal the child, Jesse just..." Jean tried to explain.

Jules interrupted her furiously.

"Shut up, she’s only four years old, what does she know? If you hadn’t taken her, could she have run out on her own?"

"You know you can’t win a lawsuit, so you come to steal the child. The court’s original five-year sentence for you was clearly too light."

"Our uncle committed suicide, and our aunt became deranged—all because of your sins, and yet you still show no remorse."

"I’ll never let Jesse acknowledge you. Don’t even think about it for the rest of your life."

Jean shook her head desperately, her tears blurring her vision.

She didn’t steal the child, nor did she harm the Caldwell family.

Ian Jennings came with the police. He took one glance at the woman who looked about 70-80% similar to his wife, knowing she was Jesse’s biological mother.

"Take her away."

With the policeman’s order, Jean was forcibly taken into the police car.

Police station.

Jules, still angry, sat in a nearby chair, a cup of tea placed beside her.

Jesse, hungry, had been taken home by the nanny first.

Ian Jennings had given a brief explanation to the officer in charge of interrogating Jean.

"President Jennings, rest assured, we will handle this strictly."

"You’re lenient in not pressing charges. So long as the evidence is conclusive, we’ll hold her in accordance with the law."

Ian nodded, and the officer entered the interrogation room holding a notebook.

Jean, hands cuffed, was forced to sit in the interrogation chair.

The officer walked in. Upon seeing her face, he swallowed hard, his amazed gaze sweeping over her thoroughly.

He had never seen such a beautiful suspect before.

A small face about the size of a palm, eyes shimmering with tears, skin moist and fair, with a few strands of black hair cascaded messily around her cheeks, exuding a cold fragility.

He sat down at the table, discreetly turning off the camera.

"Why did you kidnap President Jennings’ child?"

Jean lifted her head, a red mark circling her wrist from the handcuffs, gritting her teeth in pain.

"I didn’t kidnap the child."

The officer put down the pen, closed the notebook, crossed his legs, and licked his lips.

Seeing such a woman trapped in the interrogation room, unable to move hands or feet, he felt a bit parched.

"Anyone who comes in here claims they haven’t committed a crime. Would we have brought you in without evidence?"

"Confess honestly, and you might suffer less."

Jean refused to admit it.

"I didn’t. What you call evidence is just Ian Jennings’ word, isn’t it? How is that evidence?"

The officer dragged the chair closer to her, his leering eyes fixating on her heaving chest.

Looking slim, yet surprisingly well-endowed, the two soft mounds beneath her thin blouse were at least a 36D.

"I want to call my lawyer."

Sensing his lecherous gaze, Jean felt afraid.

In the entire interrogation room, there were only the two of them, and the red recording light on the camera was off, having been turned off by him.

"Alright."

Of course, she had the right to contact a lawyer. The officer presumed she couldn’t afford one. Wasn’t she just released from prison? Didn’t she have no family?

Aside from begging him to release her, what other choice did she have?

Pleading with him would come at a price.

The officer exited, bringing in her phone, and handed it to her.

Jean dialed a number.