Ch. 574: Mr. Edwards’ Unraveled Life Chapter 574
Chapter 574
The starting gun went off, followed by a sharp cry—“Ah!” Cooper hit the ground hard, clearly hurt.
Norah was the first to rush over. She scooped him up, heart clenching as she saw a large patch of skin scraped off his knee.
“Mom, it hurts! My leg hurts so much!” Cooper sobbed into her arms.
“Don’t worry, baby. Mommy’s got you. We’re going to see the doctor right now.” Norah quickly scanned the area and spotted a makeshift infirmary nearby. Without hesitation, she ran toward it with Cooper in her arms.
Teachers and parents rushed over, frowning when they saw Cooper’s injured leg. The school doctor calmly asked everyone to step outside so the child could be treated in peace.
Once the room quieted, Norah asked anxiously, “Doctor, is there any bone damage?”
That was the most important thing. If Cooper had a fracture, he’d need to be taken to a hospital immediately.
The doctor examined the injury again and reassured her, “No fractures, ma’am. It’s a surface wound. The skin’s badly scraped, though, and it’ll take some time to heal. Make sure the area stays clean and dry. Don’t let him scratch it.”
Norah nodded, taking mental notes of every instruction.
After cleaning the wound, applying medicine, and bandaging the area, Cooper whimpered softly, looking heartbroken.
Norah gently stroked his head and whispered, “If it hurts, don’t hold it in, sweetheart. It’s okay to cry. Grown-ups cry when they’re hurt too.”
Cooper sniffled. “But Mom… what if the other kids laugh and call me a crybaby?”
“They won’t. And even if someone does, Mommy’s on your side. I’ll never think you’re weak. You’re strong and so, so brave.”
Still hurting, Cooper finally let himself cry a little.
Norah’s chest tightened. Had Cooper been going through things like this at school all along? She suddenly felt a pang of guilt. She realized how little she actually knew about his day-to-day life at school. They never really talked about it after he got home. That had to change.
She pulled out her phone, still no message from Kevin. She called, only to find he was already on another call. That made her angrier.
As she carried Cooper toward the school gate, Maleah approached them with a faux-concerned look.
“Oh dear,” she clucked, “that looks painful. And such a shame—without a win, no red flower for Cooper today.”
Cooper’s tears came rushing back, streaming down his face again.
Maleah patted his hand. “But chin up, Cooper! Even though you didn’t finish, your class still won something. My Leonel took second place in the jump rope competition. Isn’t that great?”
Leonel was Maleah’s son. Norah instantly realized she was deliberately taunting Cooper.
Norah’s tone turned sharp. “Leonel’s mom, shouldn’t you be heading to his next event? Isn’t he in the ball-bouncing race? You wouldn’t want him crying because you weren’t there.”
Right then, an announcement rang out: “Next event, volleyball. Participants, please line up. Parents, stand by your assigned red flag.”
Norah smiled coolly. “Look, someone’s already at the first flag. You might want to hurry.”
Sure enough, Maleah stomped off and started arguing with another parent at the red flag, trying to shove her way in. Norah just shook her head.
Cooper watched the scene, then turned to Norah. “Mom, are you okay?”
Norah smiled and gently squeezed his cheek. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Thank you for asking. But what about you? Want to go home or stay and watch the games?”
Cooper looked out toward the field, paused, then said softly, “I want to stay. The teacher said we should try to place, but more important is to participate. And you need to prepare the big lunch later, right? I want to help you.”
Norah gave him a big kiss on the cheek. “Of course, baby. I could use my little helper.”
“I promise to help with everything!” Cooper said, raising his hand with a grin. The pain seemed forgotten for now.
His injury had sidelined him from the rest of the events, and Norah made sure his name was removed from all the remaining competitions. Nothing mattered more than his well-being—not some silly kindergarten sports meet.
From across the field came a familiar voice: “Go Leonel! Come on, let’s cheer for little Leonel!”
Several parents nearby half-heartedly waved red flags and mumbled cheers. Cooper, always the enthusiastic one, shouted, “Come on, Leonel! Hold that ball steady and run forward!”
Unfortunately, Leonel heard him. He glanced up—just in time to lose focus and fumble the ball. It rolled away.
Panicked, Leonel chased after it. But in his rush, he stepped on the ball, slipped, and fell flat on his face.
“Wahhh! Bad ball! Mommy, throw it away! I hate this ball!” he screamed, rolling around in the dirt, not even noticing the sand in his mouth.
Maleah dashed over, tried to comfort him, and then—shockingly—started smacking the ball in frustration.
Some nearby parents were stunned by her reaction. Murmurs broke out.
Maleah snapped at them, “What do any of you know about parenting? At least my Leonel can draw circles! Can your kids even sing on key or run fast?”
“You’re going too far!” one parent shouted. “Our kids are just as good. Why are you comparing them?”
“That’s right! My child is the best in my heart, and you have no right to insult him.”
The crowd turned on her. Realizing she couldn’t take them all on, Maleah stormed over to Norah instead.
“This is your fault! What kind of example are you setting? You distracted Leonel! He wouldn’t have fallen if it weren’t for you and your brat!”
She jabbed a finger close to Cooper’s nose.
Norah slapped her hand away, stood up, and faced her squarely. “You’re blaming us? You were the one shouting for us to cheer him on. Now that he messed up, it’s our fault? Seriously?”
“You—!” Maleah sputtered. “Forget it. I won’t argue with a glorified nanny. It’s almost lunchtime, so here’s a friendly reminder: don’t screw up. If you delay our meal, I’ll have your boss fire you.”
“She’s not my nanny. She’s my mom!” Cooper shouted angrily and smacked Maleah’s foot. She kicked him away.
Cooper landed on the ground, looking up at her in shock and pain.