Chapter 214: He's Not Dead
As I was about to knock on the car window, a bodyguard swiftly intervened, blocking my path.
"Hello, ma'am! This is a private vehicle."
"I see." I pointed towards the back of the car. "I know him."
The passenger window rolled down, revealing another bodyguard. "Sorry, our boss doesn't know you."
I retorted, "Doesn't know me?"
He replied, "Yes, you must be mistaken!"
With a nod from inside the car, the driver pressed the accelerator, and the black Bentley Continental pulled away slowly, closely tailed by other vehicles in its convoy.
I stood there, stunned for a while.
Had Jerry chosen not to acknowledge me, or was it possible that it wasn’t Jerry at all?
Suppressing my doubts, I returned to Claire's room, seeking answers from the nurse. "Was that the first time Mr. Hammer came?"
"Probably not," the nurse replied, "but it wasn't during my shift. He seemed quite familiar with the facilities when he arrived."
"How did Claire address him?"
The nurse scrunched her brow in thought. "Claire just clung to his hand. His people blocked me outside after a while, but before I left, I heard her call him Jerry."
So it was him. Jerry was alive! Right here in Maple Valley.
I exhaled deeply, feeling a long-absent sense of relief. My tone became more animated. "Okay, I understand! Thank you!"
The nurse asked, "Ms. Royston, are you friends?"
I chuckled and nodded. "Yes, he is a very important friend to me."
The psychologist had told me that my level of depression likely accumulated over many years. Jerry's supposed death had been the final straw.
During my time in Fantasia Federation, I often pondered what would have become of me if Jerry hadn’t supported me through the tumultuous breakdown with Christopher, repeatedly pulling me back from the brink. Would I have managed to persevere?
Probably not.
I waited until Claire woke up and spent some time chatting with her. Though she recognized me, her memory was fuzzy. She insisted on giving me pocket money, getting visibly upset when I refused. Each visit to the nursing home was humorously accompanied by a substantial and unsolicited bank deposit.
Squatting beside Claire, I laughed, "Claire, why give me so much money? I don't know if I'm visiting you or if you're taking care of me."
"Silly child, don’t talk nonsense," she said, her hair now markedly whiter. She reached out to gently pat my head, smiling warmly. "This is nothing. When you grow up, the entire Harris family will be yours."
Surprised, I lay my head on Claire's lap. "But all I want is for you to be healthy."
I genuinely longed for a family that would truly love and care for me.
When Claire went back to rest, I prepared to leave but unexpectedly ran into Larry, who had also come to visit her. Though knowing him as my father, I found it hard to feel any closeness to him.
Upon seeing me, Larry narrowed his eyes. "So you enjoyed being Mrs. Valence for the past two years? What brings you suddenly to Maple Valley?"
He suspected I was there to stake a claim in the family inheritance, and truthfully, I was. I couldn't let what was rightfully mine fall into Kimberly’s hands.
Facing Larry, I asked, "Can I ask you a question?"
His gaze hardened. "What is it?"
"Mrs. Harris is not my biological mother, so who is my real mother?"
My question caught him off guard. His expression morphed quickly into one of anger, but laced with unease.
"What nonsense are you spouting?" he barked, his voice steeped in defensiveness. "Are you trying to stir up trouble in the family again?"
Ignoring his outrage, I pressed on. "It's not just her dislike for me. You dislike me too, don't you? But I know you are my biological father. Why would a father dislike his child so intensely? Is it because of some unresolved issue with my mother?"
"Enough!" Larry snapped, his face flushing with anger. "You've been in Jacquar for two years, and now you're as unruly and aggressive as you were as a child!"
That was all the confirmation I needed. "So my biological mother is indeed someone else."
My psychologist in Fantasia Federation had once told me that the more someone deflected and got angry when you brought up a topic, the more likely it was that there was a hidden truth.
I had been speculating, but now I was certain.
Larry, usually so composed and refined, now looked at me with a hint of disdain. "Get lost!"
"Okay." I I gave him a slight smile and turned to leave, not wanting to face his wrath any longer.
He suddenly called out, "Wait! Did you just talk to Claire?"
I turned back. "Yes."
"Did Claire mention anything about a will?" Larry's voice betrayed a mix of anxiety and curiosity.
"A will? Did Claire make a will?" I feigned confusion.
Larry sighed in relief before pressing further, "What about the distribution of the estate..."
I frowned, maintaining my act of indignation. "Aren't you being a bit hasty? Claire's mind is so clouded; how could she discuss estate distribution with me? I would advise you not to press her on the matter either, lest she gets upset and her condition worsens."
Pausing for effect, I added, "After all, no one knows the contents of her will. As long as Claire is alive, everyone has a chance to stake their claim."
Back at Jacquar, Elissa had ordered food, waiting to share a late-night snack with me. We sat on the terrace, and after I recounted the afternoon's events, she took a contemplative sip of wine. "But if it was Jerry, why would he claim not to know you?"
"I don't know yet," I admitted, opening a can of beer with one hand. The cold, bitter liquid slid down my throat, dispelling the summer night's heat.
Elissa, peeling shrimp, frowned suddenly. "Could he have amnesia?"
I shook my head, "No. He went to see Claire, and it wasn't his first time."
"Maybe he has selective amnesia, remembering everything except you?" she suggested.
"Elissa, do you think you are in a soap opera?" I tossed a peeled shrimp into her bowl and laughed. "I feel he's different from two years ago."
"Of course, he's in a wheelchair now. How could he be the same?" Elissa pointed out.
Her words silenced me. I had confirmed with the nurse before leaving the nursing home that Jerry had been in a wheelchair the entire time.
Noticing my somber expression, Elissa changed the subject. "But it’s already a miracle he survived such a severe explosion."
"You're right," I agreed, acknowledging my unrealistic expectations.
"But if he doesn’t recognize you, what will you do?" Elissa asked, her concern palpable.
I affirmed, "If he doesn't recognize me, I'll go find him."
Two years ago, when I hadn't regained my memory and didn't recognize him, he hadn't given up on me either.
I had to find out what was going on with him now.
I smiled. "Aren't you well-acquainted with those wealthy ladies here in Maple Valley? Can you ask them to help me find out more about him?"
Elissa agreed readily, "Sure. But once you find him, then what?"
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