Meredith's pov

The young girl shuts the door behind Grant and me, leaving us in the presence of my father and Margo, who had been working here since I was young.

She beamed when she noticed me, her features lighting. "Meredith dear.’

She looked a bit peeved that she could not come over to me and had to remain positioned by father to nurse his wounds.

I looked at his wounds closely, smiling as I took a further step.

’Did Aiden do that to you?" I pointed at his nose and jaw. He looked like he had gotten punched relentlessly.

Father pushed Margo’s hand away from his lips. She had been dabbing a cloth on the split flesh.

’What do you think?’ He questioned, lounging back in his chair casually as though his face did not pain him. I didn’t miss the slight wince.

I grinned. I guess you deserve it, father. You are, after all, trying to ruin his life."

His grin widened. "I haven't tasted my own copper blood in years.” He licked his split lip. "I've missed the tang.”

I shook my head and walked over to the huge bookshelf. My fingers skim the backs and stopped on the huge book he used to read to me when I was younger.

He still had it.

I took it from the shelf, opening it to that page I knew was important. Grant leans over me protectively.

I smiled warmly at him, reassuring him with my eyes that my father would not hurt me.

He wasn't convinced.

’Grant, son. It's been a while. Sorry I hadn't seen you at first."

'Don't act like you like my presence here Sergio,’ Grant grunted, leaning against the shelf.

Father's eyes narrowed. "How has work been, still scrapping for money?"

Muralo's. He didn't understand that love was far greater than

before he

But now.

looked down at the photo, brushing my fingers over

back to him, he's frozen. He

into his concerned eyes and lift my hand to brush my fingers over his stubble jaw in

reassured him with a smile and the silence of my soul mirroring

reluctantly let

who motioned

and nods. When she walks passed me she smiled tenderly.

at her warmly. Margo was a few years older than me and actually grew up here. Her

and I were friends before

good to see you

looked at Grant over my shoulder. "I would like to speak to my daughter in private

family. Whatever we speak about, he

Father's eyes narrowed.

and it was stubbornness. We didn't like to give

muttered, his voice casting

photo on the desk, right before him

a number

I feel bad about it,

this?’ I whispered, keeping my eyes focused on him to see

fingers

his face and I feel relieved. The man still had some

watery

in his eyes is the last family photo we took with mom. She had been awfully sick here but she was the one who prodded for one last

was

couple of days after that photo was taken, mom died. She died happy though, with a smile on

we were not ready for

she suffered through the pain for years. And she didn't want to fight it

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