Scum Daddy Dreams Of Stealing My Mommy! Chapter 18: Siblings and Mother-Daughter Meet at the Same Ti

But he quickly ca to understand!

It turned out that Scumbag Father had appeared in the hospital because his little sister had fallen ill!

In the past, he would rely nod in greeting to strangers.

But now, knowing that this little girl was his own blood sister, the little sister their mother had always missed but never had the chance to reunite with—he naturally felt an extra touch of closeness and affection for her.

"Big brother, it really is you!" Hope Hart approached, and seeing that she hadn’t mistaken the person, her eyes crinkled happily with joy.

Noah Garcia looked at her, his handso little face breaking into a smile, and asked with concern, "Sister, are you sick?"

"Um... I had a fever last evening and vomited, so Daddy took to the hospital... what about you? Are you sick too?"

"Um, I had a fever last night."

"Ha! What’s this called? Fate!" To think that the little girl knew about fate.

The boy smiled and asked again, "How are you feeling now?"

"Um! My fever has gone down, and you?"

"I’m feeling a lot better too."

The two children chatted warmly, each taking turns speaking. A nurse ca out of the office and was surprised to see Hope Hart, "Baby Hope, how did you get out here?"

Hope Hart turned her head and crisply said, "Sister, it’s so boring in the sickroom, so I ca out for a stroll, shh... don’t tell my daddy!"

The nurse’s appearance interrupted their conversation and snapped Noah Garcia back to reality.

With his little sister here, he needed to be discharged from the hospital even quicker. Otherwise, if the whole family ran into each other, that would be a disaster.

"Nurse sister, this is the blanket I just borrowed, thank you."

"That was quick, has your mom woken up already?"

"Um." After Noah Garcia handed the blanket back to the nurse, he turned to look at Hope Hart, his dark eyes filled with affection, "Sister, take good care of yourself, I’m going back now."

"Big brother, which sickroom are you in? I want to co and play with you!"

"Don’t, you are sick, and you need to rest well to recover." Noah had barely finished speaking when they heard the housekeeper’s voice from the hallway, "Miss Hope, Miss Hope?"

Noah Garcia dared not face the Hart Family. Anxious, he quickly waved his hand, "Little sister, goodbye, get well soon!"

The little boy turned and walked swiftly away while Hope wanted to follow him, but Aunt Harper ca and scooped her up, "My little troublemaker, why can’t you stay put when you’re sick, and now you’ve run off again!"

"Aunt Harper, I want to play with big brother, let down!" Hope struggled.

"Miss Hope, it’s ti for your injection and dicine. The doctors and nurses are waiting in the sickroom. Be good, otherwise, Aunt Harper will have to call Daddy," Aunt Harper coaxed her with patience and forcibly carried her back to the sickroom.

Noah walked back, feeling very conflicted, not knowing whether or not to tell his mother about all this.

Alia Garcia finished packing up and turned to see her son entering, hanging his head slightly down in a dejected manner, thinking it was the illness sapping his spirit; she felt nothing but pity and didn’t think further.

"Noah, let’s go, we need to get ho so you can rest."

"Um."

The mother and son left the sickroom and took the elevator down.

As soon as they reached the lobby, Alia Garcia suddenly stopped, "Oh dear, Mommy forgot her phone charger, it’s still plugged in by the bed! Baby, you sit over there, don’t run around, wait for Mommy to co back down, is that okay?"

Thinking that her son was too tired to run back and forth, Alia Garcia settled the little one on the seat and hurried back upstairs.

As soon as she stepped out of the elevator and turned into the corridor, she saw a small figure lingering at the door of a hospital room.

"Little friend, are you looking for—" Alia approached carefully, her voice soft, but before she could finish, she was taken aback by the little girl who turned around!

Likewise, Hope Hart was so surprised to see Alia that she jumped up!

"Mommy!" the little girl exclaid and ran over to hug Alia’s legs, looking up happily, "Mommy! Did Daddy tell you I was sick? Is that why you ca to see ?"

Alia looked at her daughter panicky, glancing left and right to see that no one was around, her heart beating so fast it felt like it was going to pop out of her throat.

"Baby..." she hastily pulled her daughter into the hospital room and shut the door, squatting down to look at the pale, wan little girl, her emotions a mix of excitent, joy, heartache, and worry as her eyes reddened instantly.

"Baby, you’re sick? What happened? Is it serious? Why are you here alone? Where’s your daddy? Isn’t there soone with you?"

Her concern threw her into disarray, and she bombarded her daughter with questions, her hands gripping the girl’s small arms, unsure of what to do next.

At that mont, she desperately wanted to "sneak" her daughter away and fly far away.

Hope Hart explained, "Daddy stayed with all night, but he had important work in the morning and had to go. Aunt Harper and Uncle Fuller are with , but I wanted to go play with a little brother, so I sneaked out."

"Little brother?"

"Yeah, a really handso and nice little brother! I told him that my mom is very beautiful and I wanted to show him a picture of you, but when I ran into him just now, I didn’t have the picture in my pocket."

Hope was a chatterbox, and as she spoke, her small, fair hands fished a photograph out of her pocket.

"Mommy, look! This is a picture of my mommy, isn’t she beautiful? But I didn’t find that little brother... It’s so strange, where did he go..."

Alia looked at the photograph, her gaze fixed, her heart imdiately captured, paying no attention to her daughter mumbling sothing.

The photograph was taken in her college days, with her standing under a magnolia tree.

The magnolia flowers, white and noble, blood passionately as bees and butterflies fluttered around, and her smile was as bright and beaming as sumr flowers.

The photographer was none other than Christopher Hart, which was why she treasured this photograph so much.

Even as their relationship soured, from love to hate, she kept the photograph.

After years, she never expected to see it again.

She stared at it blankly, her heart gripped as if by an invisible hand—not painful, but aching with a mix of emotions.

Christopher hated her so much, so why did he keep her photograph after she "died"?

Did he perhaps want to keep it as a nto?

"Miss Hope, Miss Hope! Oh my goodness, my little ancestor, why are you always playing hide and seek? Aunt Harper’s old bones can’t endure this..." The housekeeper’s voice echoed down the hallway, and Alia snapped back to reality, quickly stuffing the photo back into her daughter’s hand.

"Baby, they’re looking for you, you better go out." Alia touched her daughter’s face, finally able to embrace her without any reservations, her heart incredibly fulfilled.

But the little girl was not having it.

"Mommy, I’m sick, will you stay with , please?"

Alia didn’t correct her daughter’s na for her anymore, just gently coaxed, "I have things to do right now, I have to leave imdiately, but let’s make a promise. As soon as Baby Hope gets better, I will definitely appear!"

The little girl pouted and squird, "Hope doesn’t want that... Hope wants mommy now."

With the housekeeper’s voice getting closer outside, Alia, unable to be harsh with her daughter, quickly went over to the bedside to unplug a charger, then put on a mask.

"Let’s go, baby." She took her daughter’s hand, opened the hospital room door, and stepped out, ready to face the Hart family.