James wasn't sure of what to make of this. Whose was that sound? The doubt right now wasn't whether or not there was a sound. Instead, it was the question of whom the perpetrator was and who the victim was. Never had he, in his life seen his mother raise her hands on his sister. There has been occasion when he had left the house at the fit of rage because his mother would always place Isabella over him even while he was still a boy and quite younger. Since he was the youngest at that time, wasn't it right that he would be treated a lot warmer and kinder? Instead it was the opposite. His sister was always the one at the forefront who got the prefential treatment. Judging by the past experience and information, it was unlikely that his mother would slap his sister. This leaves him with the most impossible and outrageous thought a child could ever conceive against his own mother.Could it perhaps be what he feared it to be? It was impossible. How could that happen? What child on earth

At first, Jessica thought that it wasn't what she was thinking, but James truly seemed to be breaking down emotionally. "James? What's the matter?" At this point, Jessica was actually worried and scared. Seeing James cry wasn't what she had expected she could see happening. How in the world? This has never happened out of the blue. There definitely must be something going on. Her thoughts from earlier collided with the fear and was beginning to feel quite guilty for having such a narrow thought regarding Dorathy. Perhaps she was wrong to have thought that Dorathy was trying to gaslight her. Yet she couldn't tell what was truly happening unless James was willing to divulge the matter with her. She wanted to look at his face and inquire what the matter was in order to satisfy the curiosity that was burning in her mind. She felt that there would be a string of cruelty in her thoughts if she allowed it. No matter how long it would take for James to gather himself, it wouldn't keep th

James was sitting inside the restaurant of the hospital when he saw the familiar car pulling over in the open garage. He stood up at once and headed right there. "Jessica." He muttered as he advanced in the direction of the car. When Jessica had left in a hurry earlier, he had been worried that perhaps something went wrong. He could have taken a guess of where Jessica probably went, but it was merely a guess. He had wanted to go after her. That wpuld have been the most sensible thing to do, but he couldn't leave his mother all by herself. He had just left her side to come and grab a lunch. He was preparing to leave anyways. "Where did you go?" James asked as soon as he arrived at the car. His gaze had barely shifted to Jessica than it was forced back as the other door of the car opened. He couldn't come to believe his eyes. "Isabella?" Against his will, the name had hopped off his mouth. But the shock didn't give room for the residue memory of the past. "What is she --" Suddenl

A few days later, a luxurious car drove into the open garage of RenDex. It was such an exotic car that no one could stare once and not give the benefit of looking again at it. The car pulled over. Irwin Buckham climbed out of the car, dressed in well-tailored white tuxedo. His shoes were shiny and the demeanor matched the very essence of the fashion statement. Many people who saw him were at an awe both his looks and composure. He looked like the suit was made only and especially for him. It would seem like seeing that fit on anyone else would have been considered a treason. "Doesn't that guy look like a war general?""Did you take those words from my mind? How did you know that that was what I was going to say?""Just anybody can take that guess." A lady drooled. "What a perfect model."They all watched as Irwin approached the other side of the car and opened the door. As he opened the door, a sense of glamor mingled with the passing breeze swept across the entire place. "Goodnes

"Go out with?" A voice said amongst the gathered nobles. The young lady who had just spoken was immediately scolded by her parents, who at once stood in front of her, in a way to shield her from the haunting eyes that came drifting in her direction after those words. "Oh, let her be." The elderly man who was addressing the group said. He looked quite advanced in age, but his looks and demeanor suggested that his present physical condition was a testimony of how much wealth he had invested in his looks. There was a soft smile idling on his face. He walked away from the spotlight and headed in the direction of the young lady. The parents had no idea what to do or how to react in that moment. "Please, can I see her?" The man asked. "Oh, sure." The fatherly stutter before he moved out of the way. It was evident in his body reaction that he was still looking out for the safety of his daughter. Both the father and mother had every right to feel this way. The anchor of this event had