"Michael, what's wrong," Victoria saw her baby upset and quickly hugged him. "This is just a rehearsal. You're doing great. You're mommy's best boy."
Michael wiped his tears.
He quietly told himself to be strong at this moment.
Mommy still thinks that everyone is rehearsing for a school play. She must not know that Mateo is in danger and that Lucas Douglas is really hurt.
Lucas said that mommy can't be too anxious or stressed, or the hematoma in her head could put pressure on the nerves, putting her life at risk.
At a time like this, he's the man of the family.
He has to carry the responsibilities.
So, he sternly nodded. His expression was eerily similar to Hank Clegg's.
He said to Lucas and mommy, "We should take the tunnel."
"Tunnel? What's that?" Victoria was a bit confused.
Really, this play didn't even have a script. She was struggling to keep up.
Michael had already taken mommy's hand, leading her and Lucas to the front of a wardrobe in the room.
He led mommy into the wardrobe, closed the door gently, and quietly said to mommy, "In this scene, the enemies are trying to kill us. We need to take the elevator to the tunnel and escape."
Victoria sat in the pile of clothes, her dark eyes shimmering, "So now we're pretending to be in an elevator scene?"
Michael nodded, "Yes."
With that said, he had already activated a hidden mechanism.
When this mansion was built, Lucas had already considered many contingencies.
The wardrobe in Victoria's room was actually a disguised elevator that leads to the underground tunnel.
Michael put on Victoria's headphones, "There might be some shaking up ahead. Mommy, don't make any noise that the enemies could hear."
The elevator began to descend.
Lucas held Michael's shoulder, he promised the six-year-old, "I guarantee you, I will rescue Mateo unscathed and safe for you and your mommy."
Downstairs, Hank Clegg was carrying Mateo out.
At the same time, he was quietly observing the house.
A typical residential house, akin to most French homes, a Barbie Doll on the sofa and a child's favorite toy train on the carpet.
From the kitchen, there was a smell of something burnt mixed with the scent of honey sesame.
Hank's eyes landed on a table at the kitchen doorway.
When he saw what propped up one foot of the table, his pupils couldn't help but dilate.
Mateo also followed his gaze.
Upon looking, Mateo nearly fainted from fright.
Oh my goodness!
There was a painting under the table!
Hank was already walking briskly towards it, still carrying Mateo.
Mateo clutched her little rabbit. Her heart was beating wildly with fear.
The painting was framed, one of those typically found in the Louvre Museum, redwood with gilded edges! However, it was placed face down, hiding the image it carried.
Mateo prayed to God, oh my god, oh please don't let it be Monet's Water Lilies painting used as a table prop again.
If it were, then her Mateo would be caught red-handed.
Hank had already pulled the painting from under the table, carefully and delicately.
When he turned the painting around, Mateo almost covered her eyes.
She peeked through her fingers, releasing a sigh of relief.
Thank god, thank god.
It wasn't Monet's Water Lilies painting.
Mateo suddenly felt that God must truly exist.
Hank, however, was at a loss for words.
This is … this is a … Chick Pecking Rice drawing!
The bold layout, the unrestrictive lines, it could be considered the pinnacle of pencil sketches!
He looked at Mateo somewhat speechlessly: "Did you draw this?"
Mateo shook his head, "I don't know, I have no idea."
Hmm, she wouldn't dare reveal that her brother is a painting prodigy, while her mother is the definition of clumsiness when it comes to art.
Nothing would make her compromise her mom's reputation; Mateo was keeping her lips sealed.
Hank Clegg, however, wasn't phased by this. He weighed the heavy picture frame in his hands and furrowed his eyebrows slightly, "Does your family usually use such valuable frames for children's sketch drawings?"
Again, Mateo vigorously shook her head.
The beloved children always indulged their mommy without boundaries, if mom wanted to use a mahogany picture frame for her Chick Pecking Rice drawing, Michael would kneel and present it to her.
Just at that moment.
Hank Clegg and Mateo heard the faint sound, drop--
Mateo froze, that sound...
Hank had already discarded the mahogany picture frame he was holding and, while holding Mateo, ran like a bullet towards the main gate.
If he wasn't mistaken, that was the distinct sound made before a bomb detonates.
As Hank carried Mateo and bolted from the villa, they heard a thunderous explosion behind them, and the whole villa collapsed in a heap.
The overwhelming waves of air pressure, like a towering sea wave with a gaping maw, coming at them. The helicopter in the sky was shaken, nearly falling from the air.
The adjacent police car windows shattered in unison.
All the policemen instinctively squatted on the ground.
In this critical moment, Hank held Mateo close and threw herself onto the lawn in the garden...
...
"Goodbye, our home." In the tunnel, Michael covered their mother's ears with tears in his eyes.
Lucas Douglas, pressing on his profusely bleeding wound, furrowed his brows deeply.
For seven years, this had been the home of Victoria and her little ones, and also his warmest haven.
However, in just an instant, everything was gone...
Hank Clegg, Lucas Douglas would remember this grudge against you.
Victoria seemed to sense something while listening to the music. She attempted to take her headphones off, but Michael held her hand back.
"Hush, mommy," Michael held up his little finger, "stay in character, will you?"
Obediently Victoria nodded, extended her arms, and smiling she pulled Michael into her arms.
Michael looked up at his mother.
As he looked at her warm smile, it was like the most brilliant ray of sunshine on a winter day, instantly dispelling the darkness in Michael's heart.
Yes.
As long as mom is there, as long as her smile is there, home remains.
Mateo, we will certainly rescue you.
We'll then go find daddy together.
Our family will be reunited one day.
The explosion stopped.
Hank Clegg turned around, the tremendous blast wave causing a short period of deafness, he could hear no sound from the helicopter overhead, the police sirens, or the screams of the frightened anchor on the news.
There was only one thought in his mind, that woman, who might be Victoria Talkington...
Was she still inside?
Were she and her child still inside?
He initially thought that Lucas Douglas would spare her and her child.
Who knew...
How could he have guessed that the ruthless criminal would blow up the entire villa.
Stunned Mateo in his arms, her little head also dazed by the explosion.
Had mommy and Michael escaped through the tunnel?
Is that why the bomb was triggered?
Was everyone safe?
And...
Would they ever meet again...