"What is with the look on your face? Is there something I'm supposed to know?" Mr Mason said, spurring them.

Mr Mason looked stern and the expression on his face was unyielding and menacing. He wore a black cotton suit. It was thought he already knew. He didn't dress casually. He might have met with Mr Hudson.

Pamela was dressed in deep black and that meant the same for her. She urged her mother to open up. "Come on Mother, we agreed on this before he came in. We need to get rid of him so that I can have access to the fund to send you for chemotherapy." Even with the state of her heart and the survival rate being slim she deserves to be treated and maybe miraculously heal.

Mr Mason approached his wife and from her to Pamelas' gaze lingered. He laid his hand furiously on the table and there was a thud, the cup at the end rattling.

She yelled, shrugging at her father. "Don't you know that mother will be shocked by such an act!" She regretted her impulsive display.

"Now what! You were fro