When Christopher Hart saw his mother return, it was clear she had co for Alia Garcia. He imdiately dropped the mischievously careless smile from his face and beca serious.
Hope was quick to react, thinking of the unpleasant experience from last ti, and imdiately cried out, "Daddy, Grandma is definitely going to bully Mommy again. You have to protect Mommy well!"
Christopher Hart didn’t make a sound, but he patted his daughter’s little head with one hand and then stealthily took a step to shield the woman behind him.
"Mom, do you have sothing else?" he asked in a low voice.
Emma Carter was direct as she spoke, "I’m here for her. You don’t have to put on a show for . Alia, let’s have a proper talk."
Alia internally resisted her forr mother-in-law, but considering she might need the older woman’s help to get her daughter back, at the mont they were "in the sa trench."
So, she turned around to comfort her daughter, then walked out from behind the man.
"What are you doing?" Christopher Hart grabbed her arm, his face darkening tightly, "I’m here, you don’t need to step in."
After he spoke, he looked at his mother with a firm attitude, "Mom, whatever you have to say, say it here."
Christopher thought about how he had failed to protect her in the past, hadn’t given her enough sense of security, and how it was now beyond redemption.
But now, he wouldn’t let history repeat itself.
However, unexpectedly, this ti it was Alia who didn’t want his protection.
She pushed away the man’s arm, picked up her bag at the foot of the bed, and headed straight out the door, "Aunt Carter, let’s go outside to talk. Let’s not disturb Hope’s rest."
"Mommy!" Hope beca anxious, imdiately calling out, then looked at the man, "Daddy, hurry and go! The Wicked Witch will definitely bully Mommy!"
"Hope!" Christopher Hart turned around, his face slightly stern as he reminded his daughter.
The little girl, frightened by her father, pouted her mouth and tears welled up in her eyes, afraid to make a sound.
Seeing his daughter wronged and in tears, he regretted it and quickly went to the bedside to comfort her, "I’m sorry, Daddy shouldn’t have yelled at you. But Grandma is still Daddy’s mother, even if she does sothing wrong, she’s still an elder. You may not call her Grandma, but you can’t be so rude."
Hope cried and wiped her tears, "She called a cheap brat first, it wasn’t who called her the Wicked Witch first... wuu, Daddy is bad, I don’t want Daddy anymore... I want Mommy, Mommy is good..."
Christopher Hart had intended to go outside to check the situation, but now that his daughter was causing such a fuss, he couldn’t leave. He felt distressed and his expression was troubled and irritated.
After leaving the hospital with Emma Carter, Alia Garcia didn’t walk far before she stopped at a small garden downstairs.
"Aunt Carter, just say what you want to say." Alia brushed back her hair tousled by the wind and took the initiative to speak.
Emma Carter stared at her, sizing her up.
"You’ve changed a lot."
"Perhaps..." she laughed lightly, breezily saying, "After experiencing life and death, who wouldn’t grow a bit? Seeing things lightly certainly makes living a lot easier."
Emma Carter was surprised, "Experienced life and death?"
"The child was premature, I had a severe hemorrhage—As a woman, Aunt Carter, you should be able to understand that feeling, right? One foot had already stepped into the gate of hell."
Emma Carter nodded in a daze, "No wonder you sent the child to Christopher."
"Yes, at that ti I was hard-pressed to save myself, let alone care for a premature daughter who was critically ill."
Alia’s words were a mix of truth and falsehood.
She concealed the fact about the triplets, but the postpartum hemorrhage she suffered at that ti and the many other dire circumstances that she couldn’t handle herself were all true.
So, it wasn’t exactly a lie.
Emma Carter snorted coldly, "Here I thought you were bringing the child back because you couldn’t afford to raise her."
Alia Garcia also laughed, a self-deprecating, cold chuckle, "After all, in your eyes, I’m unforgivably evil, committing any kind of atrocity wouldn’t be surprising."
"Oh, isn’t that the truth?"
"Whatever, I stopped caring a long ti ago about how others see , as long as I live well for myself." Alia Garcia ended the topic and looked at her to ask directly, "Can you persuade your son to return Hope to ?"
Emma Carter was in a dilemma, uncertain in her heart, but she still managed to mock.
"When you thought you couldn’t afford to raise her, you abandoned her, and now that the child has grown up and is about to recover from surgery, you co to reap the benefits—the calculations you’re making are so clear!"
"Yeah, so will you help or not?"
"I..." Emma Carter didn’t want to help; she even felt that speaking to Alia Garcia was like giving alms, much less helping her.
Alia Garcia saw right through her and imdiately administered a harsh dose, "Seems like your son is regretting the divorce. He’s been hounding these days. If I can’t shake him off, I might really end up being dragged back into remarrying him."
"In your dreams!" Emma Carter retorted fiercely, her voice filled with grinding teeth, "As long as I’m alive, you’ll never set foot in the Hart family ho again!"
"Good, I’m not even interested. But I must take Hope with , so if you want to leave sooner, help get Hope back to my side."
Emma Carter was taken aback, "Are you saying you plan to steal her away?"
"Whatever it takes. Anyway, I have no intention of getting back with your son, no matter what he thinks of ."
"..." Emma Carter listened to her dismissive attitude toward her son, feeling an irritated knot in her heart, "You should let Christopher see your true colors now, you good-for-nothing!"
"Well said. A grown man, powerful and young and handso, with plenty of won willing to throw themselves at him, yet he can’t stop pining for his ex-wife. I have no respect for that either."
"You—" Emma Carter’s fists clenched with anger.
She could criticize her own son, but heaven forbid anyone else did.
Struggling to find words in her anger, she finally managed to say, "Wait for my news. I never considered that brat a part of the Hart descendants, and now it’s best for you to take her away!"
Unsatisfied, she added, "You’re right, my son is powerful, young, and handso. Without this burden, what kind of wealthy, prestigious won couldn’t he marry?"
She thought Alia Garcia would get angry at these words.
To her surprise, the woman just smiled and sincerely said, "I also wish him happiness soon."
Emma Carter crossed her arms and laughed, "You must feel sour saying that."
"Not at all. I know he has been good to Hope these years, and fortunately, with such a good father, she has been able to grow up healthy. So deep down, I don’t hate him, and I sincerely wish he finds a good woman."
Emma Carter was again taken aback, looking at her with newfound respect.
To completely let go of soone was to neither love nor hate them.
From the perspective of a stranger, Alia Garcia truly wished to offer this beautiful blessing.
Seeing that Emma Carter had run out of words, Garcia gathered her breath, her gaze wandering into the distance, "I have to go now. I’ll be waiting for your good news."
She flipped her hair, striding off gracefully.
It was Emma Carter who remained, taking a while to calm down, then turned and looked at Garcia’s straight, graceful back, and spat out, "What kind of person is she!"
Upstairs, Christopher Hart, who had been anxiously concerned, received a call from his bodyguard.
"Mr. Hart, Old Lady Hart and Miss Norton were talking in the small garden of the hospital ward; they seed very calm, with no conflicts. Now, Miss Norton has left first."
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