Chapter 850 Made His Treasure Cry
She remembered being tricked by this method before and did not call back this time. Unexpectedly, the other party was persistent and called again.
"Hello, who is this?"
"Natalie, it's Grandpa."
An aged voice, marked by the vicissitudes of life, resonated through the receiver.
Natalie's expression shifted subtly.
Caleb, not hearing Natalie's voice, turned to ask Samuel if there was a signal problem. Samuel glanced at his phone and confirmed there was.
"Natalie, the day after tomorrow is your grandmother's death anniversary. Could you come over, please?" Caleb asked. Then, he said, almost to himself, "When you were young, she loved you the most. She taught you how to speak and walk. She would be delighted if you could come."
Natalie responded coolly, "But, I don't want to come."
"Natalie?" Caleb sounded very surprised, clearly not expecting her refusal.
Natalie harbored no fondness for the Hastings family, nor any memory of her late grandmother. She saw no reason to inconvenience herself for someone who was absent from her memories and to whom she felt no emotional connection, especially since visiting the Hastings family would only bring her unhappiness.
Caleb hung up, disappointed.
Soon after, Natalie received another call, this time from Samuel.
"Can we talk for a moment?"
Unlike the rest of the Hastings family, Samuel's tone and manner of speaking to Natalie had not changed.
"If you're trying to persuade me to return to the Hastings family, forget it." Natalie refused without hesitation.
Samuel, having anticipated Natalie's response, was neither angry nor discouraged. "Grandma was different from the others in the Hastings family. When you were young, you loved her the most. Are you certain you want to miss paying your respects to her because of some people in the family?"
She had loved Marjorie the most as a child?
This revelation caused a strange tremor in Natalie’s heart. After a pause, she said, "Samuel, I don't remember anything from my childhood. I had a fever when I was young and don't remember anything before that. In my memory, there's no one from the Hastings family."
An hour later, Natalie received an email from Samuel, which contained a large number of photos. The images were low-resolution and of poor quality, reflecting their age of over a decade. Each photo captured two figures: a middle-aged woman in her fifties and a little girl.
Samuel informed Natalie that these were photographs, numbering between forty and fifty, of her as a child with their grandmother. Their grandmother, who appeared to be in her sixties but looked a decade younger, radiated elegance and nobility. She exuded a warmth and affection that was palpable even through the grainy images. The little girl in the photos, ranging from a hundred-day-old baby to a five-year-old, was unmistakably loved, each image depicting their intimate bond.
Despite having no memory of these moments, Natalie felt a profound sense of familiarity wash over her as she viewed the photographs. The young girl, who had left no imprint in her memory, was undoubtedly her. The sight of her grandmother alone stirred a deep nostalgia within her.
"Natalie, what's wrong?" Oliver, who was working nearby, noticed her tears and quickly approached.
Realizing she was crying, Natalie looked up at Oliver, her eyes tearful and pitiful.
Oliver glanced at the photos displayed on her tablet, sighed deeply, and then crouched down to gently wipe her tears away. He was aware of Samuel's intentions in sending these pictures, knowing they would deeply affect Natalie.
"Did Marjorie know my grandmother?" Natalie managed to ask as she wiped away her tears, remembering that Marjorie and Caleb had once been close, although that was no longer the case.
"She did," Oliver replied.
Natalie sniffed. "Then I'll go find Marjorie."
Oliver wanted to point out that since she held no affection for the Hastings family, she should not be concerned about them. However, he realized that if Natalie could truly be indifferent, she would not be herself.
Samuel, having sent the email with full awareness of its impact, knew it would profoundly affect Natalie. Indeed, the impact was so significant that it brought his beloved wife to tears.
…
"Marjorie, are you asleep? It's Natalie, I have something to ask you."
Natalie stood at the door to Marjorie's room on the second floor, knocking and waiting.
"I'm not asleep!" came the reply from within.
As soon as the words rang out, the door swung open, activated by the smart home system.
Marjorie was reclining on the bed, a table lamp casting a soft glow around her as she peered through her reading glasses. Clearly, she had been browsing the Internet on her iPad. She preferred the larger 10.5-inch screen of the iPad over the smaller phone display, which strained her elderly eyes.
"Natalie, come in! What brings you here so late?" Marjorie adjusted her glasses, a look of concern washing over her face as she noticed Natalie's tears. "Why are you crying? Did Oliver bully you?!"
As she spoke, Marjorie looked past the door fiercely.
Oliver, concerned about Natalie, had followed her and was now leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and an expression of mild annoyance on his face.
"It's not that!" Natalie hurried to clarify, turning her head to meet Oliver's eyes, a pang of guilt and remorse striking her.
"Marjorie, do you know my late grandmother?"
"I did. What's the matter?" Marjorie responded. Their relationship was cordial, though not close; their personalities and approaches to life differed markedly. As young women, they had often clashed, but over time, they had come to realize that their disagreements were not rooted in actual dislike.
"Well..." Natalie hesitated, then asked, "Do you know about my childhood with her?"
"Your childhood?"
"Yes, I had a high fever years ago and completely forgot about the Hastings family. I want to know how my relationship was with her before I left the Hastings family."
The phrase 'I left the Hastings family' felt awkward and resistant on Natalie's tongue, as if by saying it, she was indirectly affirming her identity as a member of that family.
Marjorie's relaxed demeanor began to fade, replaced by a more serious expression. "Natalie, do you really want to know? Since you don't like the Hastings family, some things can be simply left behind. If you don't know them, you can pretend they don't exist."
"But Marjorie, what exists is real, and pretending won't make it truly disappear." Natalie managed a weak smile. "I want to know, regardless of what the facts might be."
It was her memory, after all, a part of her life that she sought to reclaim.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
