Mr. Marsh’s Twins

After a while, Ivan pondered and picked up his phone to dial a number. In a low voice, he instructed, “Remove all the online news about Spencer’s ex-girlfriend, leaving only the positive ones.”

“Got it, Mr. Marsh.”

Watching her husband hang up the phone, Jennifer asked with some doubt, “Does this still matter?” If it’s aimed at the Campell family parents, they’ve probably already seen it, right?

“It doesn’t matter much,” Ivan replied, “but it’s better to clean it up than not.”

True.

Jennifer knew he had done a lot for Spencer behind the scenes. He truly doted on this younger brother and wanted to give him the best of everything. If it were for a wedding, he would definitely go all out. He really valued family ties. It was she who had taught him to cherish them.

By evening, the rain still hadn’t stopped.

In the hospital, Rupert was barely clinging to life in the emergency room. The doctor held a chart and spoke to the Brightwood family parents, who were slumped on a bench. “His Achilles tendons have been severed. Even if they heal, walking will be difficult; he won’t be able to walk normally again.”

The Brightwood family parents wore blank expressions, their hearts filled with sorrow.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

The doctor continued, “He also has multiple fractures all over his body. He will need eleven surgeries in total. You need to prepay $300, 000.”

Mrs. Brightwood leaned against Mr. Brightwood, tears welling in her eyes. She felt numb as if her soul had been drained away.

Mr. Brightwood remained silent, his heart aching as if cut by a knife, filled with despair. How could he possibly come up with such a large sum? Even if he managed to gather it, his son would still be crippled.

The sky had fallen for the Brightwood family.

The doctor kindly reminded them, “If you can’t come up with the money, the surgeries will have to be postponed.” With that, he glanced at the two elderly people on the bench and then turned to leave.

At night, in the Campell family flower shop.

The dining area wasn’t very large but could comfortably accommodate five or six people without feeling crowded. On the round table were several home-cooked dishes steaming hot: stir-fried pork with green peppers, scrambled eggs with tomatoes, a plate of lotus root, stir-fried soybeans, sliced salted duck eggs, some water spinach, and a bowl of meatball soup.

For an ordinary family, this dinner was quite sumptuous.

Agnes wondered if Spencer could get used to such simple fare since he wasn’t from this social class.

Summer seemed emotionless; her calm demeanor made her appear deep and unreadable as she busied herself with serving dishes and setting out bowls.

Mr. Campell felt quite awkward; inviting someone over for dinner without prior preparation and not even buying fish felt embarrassing. But he said nothing apologetic because he had to consider his wife’s feelings. It was already good enough that she allowed this young man to stay for dinner.

“Here’s a bottle of Pepsi!” Agnes brought out a bottle of Pepsi from somewhere and held a stack of disposable cups in her other hand. She quickly poured the Pepsi into cups as she always wore a smile, trying her best to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

Mr. Campell pulled out a chair and invited Spencer to sit down.

Spencer thanked him but didn’t sit down immediately since no one else had sat down yet; he knew his place and understood that Mrs. Campell was not pleased.

Mrs. Campell brought over bowls and chopsticks while Summer went to serve rice. Spencer quickly walked over to help.

“It’s okay; you can sit down,” Summer glanced at him briefly and spoke in her usual calm tone.

Spencer looked at her but didn’t insist on helping; he returned to the dining table instead.

“Sit down, Spencer!” Agnes invited as she sat down herself and handed him a cup of Pepsi. “Try it? You might not have had it before! It’s quite unique!”

At this point, Mr. Campell and Mrs. Campell also sat down. Only then did Spencer take his seat next to Agnes. “Thank you.”