"Still have the strength to curse with one foot in the grave," Emma sneered.


    "Seeing you just makes me want to curse you, you shameless hussy, seducing my son. Frank was so dutiful until you instigated him to defy me. Where is Frank? Why isn''t he here yet? I need to give myst words! I have to tell him to leave the Thompsonpany and fortune to Eden. Your bastard son won''t get a single penny!"


    The elder Mrs. Thompson screamed with all her might, her face draining of color from the extreme agitation.


    "Ma''am, please don''t get so excited. The doctor said you have a weak heart and you mustn''t get agitated." The caregiver rushed over nervously, patting the elder Mrs. Thompson on the chest and rubbing her back.


    Then, turning to Emma, the caregiver said, "Mrs. Thompson, the olddy is very ill and her life is at risk. Please don''t provoke her any further."


    "I''m not provoking her. She''s just not strong enough to handle it," Emma said, her tone cool and detached.


    The elder Mrs. Thompson should have been very familiar with those words.


    Years ago, when Vanessa Monroe pushed Emma down the stairs, she had a difficult childbirth with massive bleeding, nearly dying along with her baby. Bet was rushed to an incubator right after birth, and though they hired the best pediatric team in the country, not a single specialist dared promise he would survive.


    While enduring her own pain, Emma was tormented by worry for her child in the neonatal intensive care unit.


    And at that very moment, The elder Mrs. Thompson hade to the hospital to torment her, calling her useless for not being able to save her first child, for being barren for so many years, and for now giving birth to a sickly baby who couldn''tpare to her precious grandson, Eden.


    Emma was so enraged she almost fainted, and the doctor had to tell The elder Mrs. Thompson not to agitate the new mother.


    But The elder Mrs. Thompson had retorted smugly, "I''m not provoking her. She''s just not strong enough to handle it."


    The exact same words, which Emma had now finally returned to her, verbatim.


    "Ma''am, curse a little more if you want. You won''t be able to once you''re dead," Emma continued. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she took out her phone and yed a video for The elder Mrs. Thompson


    The video showed Eden''s twisted and pathetic state after being sentenced to ten years in prison. It was trulyughable.


    "You didn''t know, did you, ma''am? Your precious grandson has been sentenced to ten years. He''s about to be locked up. Oh, what a pity. You won''t get to see him before you close your eyes for good. And after you die, you won''t have your dear grandson to see you off."


    The elder Mrs. Thompson was old, and though her heart was weak, her eyes and ears were still sharp. She stared at the phone screen, watching her grandson''s pathetic disy, and her whole body began to tremble.


    "Eden? How could Eden go to prison! Frank! Where is Frank? What is he doing as a father! Eden is about to be a father himself! If he''s in prison, what will happen


    to Ynda and the baby?" The elder Mrs. Thompson wailed.


    "You don''t need to worry about that. Ynda Walker already aborted the baby. I heard it was a fully formed male fetus-the great-grandson you were so eager for A pity, it wasn''t breathing when it came out, Emma said with a coldugh.


    At those words, the elder Mrs. Thompson began to tremble violently, herplexion turning a sickly mottled grey as she gasped for air Her breath hitched in a ragged stato before she let out onest, haunting scream, "My... my great-grandson!"


    Then, her eyes rolled back in her head, and she copsed, unconscious.