Aaron Scott threw out so harsh words.
However, neither Ernesto Scott nor Nora Scott gave him any face. All night long, their phones kept ringing off the hook, all in a shutdown state.
When asked about Alma Ferreira, the response was also "uninford".
The next day, early morning.
The gloomy rain continued, and Aaron Scott’s birthday banquet arrived as scheduled. In the Scott family’s mansion, it was bustling since dawn, dispelling the low pressure and dullness brought by the overnight storm.
Everyone, spontaneously and consciously, avoided talking about the nas "Nora Scott" and "Ernesto Scott".
...
Scott family villa.
Oliver Scott, who was up early reciting vocabulary, was disturbed by an unexpected phone call.
Suspiciously, he picked up the phone, seeing the caller ID, he was slightly taken aback, then connected the call.
"Dad?"
Oliver Scott spoke out, puzzled.
"I heard you asked for leave from school?" Ernesto Scott directly asked.
"Yes." Oliver acknowledged, "Mom said we’re attending grandpa’s birthday banquet today."
Usually, Ernesto didn’t prevent Oliver and Sophie from interacting with the Scott family; they had a good relationship with them. Previously, when Aaron had his birthday, they would all go. This ti, for the seventieth birthday and having a grand banquet, theoretically, they should all attend.
"Don’t go. Go to school today and attend your classes properly."
Hearing this, Oliver was taken aback and said, "Huh? What about Mom and Sis—"
Interrupting him, Ernesto straightforwardly said, "You can tell them they don’t have to go. But if they insist on going, don’t worry about it."
Evidently, Ernesto anticipated Alma and Sophie wouldn’t listen, even skipping the direct notification step.
Oliver felt that sothing was off.
After hesitating a bit, he gently picked at the side of the chair with his fingers, asking, "What about big sis?"
Marcus Shaw had been on leave since two days ago without giving a specific reason, but roughly speaking, he could guess—most likely sothing had happened to Sir Easton.
As for Ernesto, it seed he received the news yesterday, was outside the whole day, and didn’t return, even though the ho phone was ringing off the hook all night.
"Don’t worry about it."
Ernesto dropped the words and cut off the call.
"..."
Wanting to ask a few more questions, Oliver stared blankly at his phone, blinked, then scratched his head, tousling his hair ssily, after which he let out a long sigh and hesitantly dialed Marcus Shaw.
Unexpectedly, Marcus, who’d been missing since taking leave, not answering calls, or replying to ssages, actually answered quickly this ti.
"What’s up?"
Suddenly hearing Marcus’s voice, Oliver was stunned for a few seconds, not saying a word.
After waiting for a while, Marcus, seeming impatient, spoke up again, "Cat got your tongue?"
"Ah," Oliver quickly snapped back, not minding Marcus’s words, hurriedly asking, "When are you returning to school?"
"In the afternoon. Is there sothing up?"
There was sothing... but not knowing where to start asking.
—Did sothing really happen to Sir Easton?
—Is my dad with you guys?
—Today the Scott family is revealing Nora’s identity, will she be present?
—Could you tell Nora, not going to the Scott family last night might have displeased them...
So many questions surfaced in his mind, but so had definitive answers, while others seed unnecessary.
Organizing his ssy thoughts, Oliver gradually cald down.
"Sir Easton..." he opened his mouth.
"Yes."
Before he could finish asking, Marcus affirmatively responded.
"Oh." Oliver was shocked, thinking of the kind and calm elder, feeling a bit uncomfortable, sulky; only then did he continue, "How is sis?"
"She’s fine." Marcus briefly replied.
"...Oh."
Once again, Oliver was speechless.
There was a brief silence.
Suddenly, Marcus took the initiative to speak, "We’re moving in a couple of days, going to Cloudwater Haven. If you have ti, you can drop by."
"Oh, okay."
Oliver was pleasantly surprised.
"Don’t get any ideas about her." Marcus coolly reminded.
Oliver: "..."
Though a little inappropriate, at this mont, Oliver couldn’t help but blurt out a few words: Fool!
*
Antonio Easton’s funeral, everything was simple.
The people who knew about it were the alley’s neighbors and a few others aware of Antonio Easton’s illness.
Three days to complete all procedures, simple and ordinary.
Morning, cetery.
The sky was gloomy, with fine rain falling.
The guests attending the funeral bid farewell one by one after the last ceremony.
A black umbrella was held overhead, shielding from the continuous pin-like drizzle, with raindrops tapping on the umbrella surface, the pervasive sound ringing.
Under the umbrella was a tall silhouette, dressed in long black clothes, a white flower pinned on the chest, with features like a painting, cold and indifferent, devoid of any trace of emotion.
User Comments
0 comments from readers