Alan Morgan angrily kicked open the glass Grand Gate of his Office Room and started striding out.
"Buy that Villa back for !"
Damn it! That was the house they had prepared for their marriage—their wedding ho! How dare she sell it!
"Yes."
After abruptly hanging up the phone, Alan Morgan walked into the elevator, so furious he wished he could grab Shirley Grant and give her a good few kicks.
"Shirley Grant!"
Alan Morgan forced her na through clenched teeth, the very picture of soone grinding their teeth in rage.
This display of fury was foreign even to Alan Morgan himself.
He was never like this before.
Indeed, only a woman has the power to change a man.
In a Border Town of S City, endless commoner houses and a few sporadic small Supermarkets and Dining Halls ford the busiest street in the town.
A little farther north, fields and woods stretched out, with a few households nestled within.
Shirley Grant lived in one of these.
In a narrow, dark kitchen, Shirley Grant was making soup. The nu for the day was decent. She had made a plate of small pork ribs.
"Gerry Peary? Dinner’s ready."
Shirley Grant, wiping her hands on her apron, carried two plates of food and walked out of the kitchen.
In the Living Room, a small boy of about six or seven was sitting. For so reason, he looked much smaller and thinner than children his age.
"Wow, we have at today."
Gerry Peary pointed excitedly at the food Shirley Grant brought in, his face alight with excitent.
"Yes, Gerry Peary, be good. We’ll move after dinner."
Shirley Grant squatted down, eye-level with Gerry Peary.
"Mom, why do we always have to move?"
Gerry Peary looked at Shirley Grant unhappily, his face a little pale. With large, tear-filled eyes, he gazed at her.
Every ti she t his gaze, those eyes made her want to cry.
"We won’t have to after this. We’re moving into Uncle’s big house this ti."
Shirley Grant said, smiling and ruffling Gerry Peary’s hair. Then she began to feed him.
"Mom, why are you crying?"
Gerry Peary watched as tears stread down Shirley Grant’s face. Confused, he reached out to wipe them away.
"It’s nothing. I’m not crying. I just got so sand in my eyes."
Shirley Grant wiped her eyes with a napkin from the table.
"I thought Mama was worried about Gerry Peary’s illness again. Gerry Peary is okay. Gerry Peary will be good..."
Shirley Grant looked lovingly at Gerry Peary in her arms, her face etched with sorrow. She turned her head and wiped away another tear.
"Gerry Peary, be good. Everything will be all right. Once we move to Uncle’s big house, we’ll find the best Doctor in the world. After that, Gerry Peary’s illness will be cured."
Then you can do whatever you like, just like everyone else.
Gerry Peary nodded. He was just a child, after all, and her words imdiately brought a smile to his face.
"Oh! That’s so great! That’s so great! Gerry Peary can go to the yard too and play gas with other kids!"
Gerry Peary shouted excitedly, beaming at Shirley Grant, his eyes full of joy.
"Yes, Gerry Peary will be all right."
Shirley Grant gave Gerry Peary a small piece of at. It was cooked until tender, just the way Gerry Peary liked it.
This heartwarming scene was missed by the one person who should have seen it.
If Alan Morgan’s father were here, his gaze might have fixed on Gerry Peary and not moved away.
Because this little boy was the spitting image of Alan Morgan as a child.
Except, Gerry Peary was frailer, paler, and more heart-wrenching to behold.
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