Athena couldn’t shake the feeling that Margaret had been crying for the past four days.
The croaky quality of the latter’s voice was unmistakable, reminiscent of a frog’s croak, and her words ca out almost in whispers, as if they were fragile and could shatter at any mont.
"Margaret, how are you doing?" Old Mr. Thorne asked, embodying the gentleman he had always been, his concern shining through despite the gravity of their impending conversation.
"I’m fine, thank you," Margaret replied, her voice trembling slightly. "I heard you’re keeping my family until the shareholders’ eting..." There was a pause laden with tension. "Are they still alive?"
Athena sighed, reclining deeper into the plush sofa, feeling the weight of the mont settle heavily on her chest.
Florence mirrored her actions beside her, and the twins, usually restless and full of energy, were still with Old Mr. Thorne; eyes alert and ears attuned to the adults conversations, instead of moving away to play with toys as children of their ages would have done in this scenario.
"Yes, they are. They must be present at the shareholders’ eting, don’t they?" Old Mr. Thorne confird, his brow furrowed in thought.
"They do," Margaret agreed, her voice barely above a whisper. "So, why are you calling? Did sothing happen?"
"I just found out that Ewan was never given the docunts detailing his shares and position in my empire. I had thought he had chosen to stay away, until I discovered otherwise..." Old Mr. Thorne’s voice beca more resolute, but Athena could hear the undercurrents of frustration and sorrow weaving through each word.
A soft cough echoed from the other end, and Athena’s worry deepened. Though Margaret had seemingly overco the devastating effects of the Grey disease, it remained imperative for her to stay healthy, as a second attack could be deadlier than the first.
"Yeah, I think Alfonso ntioned the docunts at one ti. But that was all. I thought he had given them to Ewan. I didn’t know he kept them aside. I can help you look for them if that’s why you’re calling..."
"Good. He ntioned it was in a drawer and that you would know which drawer. Do you?" Old Mr. Thorne kept his tone steady, determination clawing at his insides.
"Yes, I do. I’ll bring the docunts to the house now, if it’s not too much hassle."
Old Mr. Thorne paused for a mont, pressing his lips thoughtfully from one side to the other. "Don’t worry; I’ll send a driver to pick it up from you. You should rest. You don’t sound well."
A croaky laugh escaped Margaret, tinged with regret. "It’s nice that you still care after all that I and my family had done to Athena and Ewan..." She hesitated, a weary sigh escaping. "It might not an much, but I am sorry. I would have said the sa to Athena, but I don’t think she would believe . I really made her life miserable during the three years she stayed married to Ewan. I wish..."
A cough interrupted her, sounding painful.
"I wish I had known better. I wish I had taught my daughter better. I didn’t lay a good foundation, and now we are all suffering the consequences. Now, I can’t even show my face to my granddaughter. What would she think of ?" A sob broke free, unraveling the fragile strength she had left.
Old Mr. Thorne glanced at Athena then, but Athena shook her head; she wasn’t interested in playing peacemaker between Margaret and her granddaughter.
If Margaret wanted to be a part of Kendra’s life, she needed to make that effort herself, as Lucas had done. But she doubted that Lucas would allow Margaret back in.
"Margaret..." Old Mr. Thorne began wearily, his voice firm despite the exhaustion visible on his features. "Lucas thought the sa before eting his daughter. I’m sure there’s room for forgiveness for you in his heart, in the little one’s heart. You should try to get in contact with them."
"Do you think so?" Margaret’s sobs turned into full-blown cries now, her vulnerability raw and exposed over the phone. "Do you think he will forgive ?"
"I don’t know, but there’s no harm in trying. You’re not getting any younger, and you should nd things before it’s too late. Goodbye, Margaret. My driver will be with you soon."
"Thank you very much, Mr. Thorne. Thank you for being on Athena’s side, too. God knows the girl needs all the help she can get."
Old Mr. Thorne’s brows furrowed again, confusion mirrored in the expressions of those gathered in the family room. "What do you an by that, Margaret?" He asked, his voice tinged with bewildernt.
But Margaret only ended the call, leaving an echo of uncertainty lingering in the air.
"What do you think she ans by that?" Florence turned to her husband, her gaze piercing and probing.
Old Mr. Thorne blinked incredulously at her. "Woman, we listened to the call together! You heard when I asked her that question. How am I supposed to know what she ant by her last statent?"
Athena laughed lightly, her voice breaking through the tension like a ray of sunshine, when she noticed Florence pout her age-worn lips, slicked with a fresh gloss of pink lip balm.
Old Mr. Thorne shook his head, resting it back against the sofa as if the weight of the world had settled on his shoulders. "You are right, Florence. Alfonso and his daughter deserve to be imprisoned for life. But Athena here offered a better solution, the black cells."
He turned to Athena, his eyes glimring with a mix of admiration and mischief. "I’m not sure how you did it, but if you are taking Alfonso there, I would love to see it for myself."
Athena chuckled, shaking her head playfully. "I don’t know how feasible that would be, old man. You seem to forget that you’re no longer as young as you were when you were coaching Aiden."
She had done her research on the platoon they both had served in, and was grateful the old man had survived so many turbulent tis.
Old Mr. Thorne laughed heartily, patting his lean arms with a sense of pride. "Trust , I’m stronger than I look."
The twins chucked. "We are sure you are, grandpa."
Athena’s laughter dried up as fast as the smiles on Mr and Mrs Thorne faces.
Grandpa?
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