âSheâs in the infirmary.
Allow me to show you the way.
â
Kysonâs expression turned icy, his fists clenched reflexively.
The words âfightâ âcryingâ and âinfirmaryâ sent a jolt through him.
The implication of potential injury to Destinee hit him hard.
Who could have done this?
Kysonâs expression darkened as he followed Tilda into the kindergarten without uttering a word.
Even before reaching the infirmary, they could hear the tumultuous noise echoing through the corridors.
The cries of children mixed with the stern voice of a woman engaged in a heated argument with the principal.
âI demand action! Look at my childâs injuries.
Heâs just a young boy.
If his face is scarred, his entire future will be ruined.
How could such a young girl be so vicious? I insist that she be expelled immediately, or Myron will be transferred to another school!â
âCalm down, please.
Childhood scuffles are not uncommon.
Letâs wait for all the parents to arrive before making any decisions.
Expulsion is a drastic step.
â
âHere come Destineeâs guardian!â
As Tilda called out, the infirmary became much quieter.
As Tilda announced Kysonâs arrival, the commotion in the infirmary subsided somewhat.
Myron Grevilleâs mother, previously so assertive, sat with folded arms, emitting a cold snort.
Even before seeing who had entered, she rolled her eyes in a gesture of disrespect.
âIâd like to see what kind of parents could raise such a shameless child!â
As Kyson followed Tilda into the infirmary, the womanâs expression transformed from disdain to shock.
He was undeniably handsome!
Like a noble prince from a foreign land, a figure she had only seen on television before.
She hadnât expected the man before her to surpass the allure of many television stars.
While she gawked at Kyson in a daze, he paid her no attention, bypassing her and striding toward Destinee, who sat on a small stool.
âAre you hurt? Let me have a look!â Kyson squatted down, gently taking Destineeâs delicate hands in his own, inspecting for any signs of injury.
Destinee giggled, her laughter ringing out like that of a cheerful little elf.
âNo, Iâm not weak.
I always win in fights.
â
Kyson exhaled in relief, gently kissed her forehead, and reassured her, âIâm relieved to hear youâre not injured.
â
Myronâs mother interjected sharply, âAre you Destineeâs father? Your daughter seems overly aggressive, donât you think? Look at what she has done to my son-notice the red marks on his face and the scrapes on his wrists.
What if he ends up disfigured?â
Without a flicker of emotion, Kyson replied coolly, âHow much do you want to settle this? State your price, and then kindly remove your child from this kindergarten.
â
âWhat?â Myronâs mother was taken aback.
âYour daughter attacked my Myron first.
You owe us compensation.
Your good looks donât excuse your arrogance, nor your audacity to suggest we leave the school.
This matter should be settled by the principal.
Itâs your daughter who should be expelled, not my son!â