How could he even ask that? Was he genuinely curious, or just looking for a way to mock him?
Hawthorne slowed his pace, a restless energy radiating off him. Gwh noticed, ncing at him with a puzzled look.
Their eyes met, and the hatred burning in Hawthorne''s gaze gradually faded.
"She passed away many years ago," he said atst, forcing down all emotion until his tone turned calm and steady.
After all, it was McNeil who''d tried to wipe out the Everhart family back then. Hawthorne knew the Langfords and the Everharts had once been close, even friends. What he couldn''t understand was why McNeil had chosen such ruthless tactics.
Thorpe let out a heavy sigh. "So many people from our past have gone. And somehow, I''m the useless old man left behind."
Some old memory seemed to flicker in Thorpe''s expression, a hint of sorrow crossing his wrinkled face. He nodded, eyes resting on Hawthorne.
"If I live long enough to make it back to Greenvale," Thorpe said quietly, "take me
to see your grandfather''s memorial. The old friends haven''t seen each other in years, and those of us who are left have no one left to talk to."
There was nothing theatrical in Thorpe''s sorrow; it rang true. Hawthorne''s reply was cool, almost indifferent.
"We''ll see."
Gwh puffed out her cheeks, but with Hawthorne standing there, she held her tongue and simply started walking outside.
Thorpegged behind, watching as Hawthorne followed Gwh at a steady distance. Suddenly, the old man''s face broke into a wide, delighted grin.
This boy, Hawthorne-even if he was a little older than their Gwyn, well, a mature man knows how to cherish his wife.
When they reached the hospital entrance, a car was already waiting to take Thorpe back to the family estate.
Thorpe tapped his cane, gesturing at Gwh and Hawthorne. "Come with me, both of you."
Gwh was still sulking. "No, thanks."
Thorpe''s face fell. “Come on,
sweetheart, your great-granddad was only joking. It''s peach season-your favorite! I''ve had a whole basket picked just for you, all you can eat. Come on, now="
He practically had to restrain himself from just scooping Gwh into the car.
Gwh didn''t protest, but her voice softened. "Great-granddad, don''t make a fuss. You head home first-I''lle byter."
Thorpe held onto her arm. "Don''t try to trick this old man. If I let go, what if you run off and I never see you again?"
Gwh couldn''t help butugh, exasperated, but she had no idea how to
convince him she wasn''t going anywhere.
Hawthorne stepped up behind her. "Don''t worry, Thorpe. I''d like to try some of that peach wine you make at your ce."
When he was young, Hawthorne''s
grandfather used to talk about the
Langfords old man making wine with spring peaches. Every time he brought it up, he''d smack his lips like he was half-drunk without even tasting it. s?novel
"Good, Hawthorne Everhart. I''ll leave my great-granddaughter in your hands, then. I''ll be waiting for you at home."
Thorpe already knew where Gwh was headed. After so many years, it was time for her and his grandson to find closure.
One trapped in a never-ending sleep, the other wide awake but wishing she could escape into dreams. What a cruel twist of fate.
Gwh looked at Hawthorne. "That''s not necessary. You''re our guest-I wouldn''t want to trouble you."
She was already touched that Hawthorne, an outsider, had apanied her all
the way to Starfall City. There was no need to ask more of him.
Thorpe was momentarily speechless. Maybe she was right—it didn''t seem quite proper.
That useless grandson of his-still
lying there with his eyes closed. Was
he goi
to suddenly rise from the
dead just because his future
son-inw arrived?
Ah, fate can be so unkind.
"I''ll go with you," Hawthorne said quietly. "Dinner can wait."
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