The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call

Chapter 895 Let’s Walt a Little Longer for Justice

The scooter roared, Kate stood still lost in thought.

At the Wilsons, the people who had come to apologize had left. No one dared to speak ill of Leanne again. The truth had finally come to light, but it was too late.

Budd was shackled to the bed by the Invisible threads of the Epoch Collection. Leanne couldn’t see them, but as Budd’s wife, she noticed some subtle differences with Budd. It wasn’t just the fever.

Budd used to be cheerful. No matter how much he suffered at work or how many overtime hours he had to put in, his eyes were always bright whenever he came home.

Budd had always protected his family. He had always believed that as long as their family stayed together, there was hope for a better future no matter how tough things were.

But since Dulcie’s death, Budd’s eyes had become dull.

He insisted that something was fishy about Dulcie’s death and tried to investigate, but he faced hurdles everywhere he turned and was even driven away by others.

Leanne looked at Budd, who was crying even in his sleep. That was when she noticed that most of his hair had grayed.

It starkly contrasted with his return from the military. Although Budd had a leg injury, he had been full of spirit back then.

for what happened to Dulcie. If we can’t get justice, I’ll join you in seeking revenge,” Leanne

but Leanne had no idea how she could get the topic to trend. She didn’t understand how social

gossip about Leanne behind her back, Leanne questioned if she was the reason Dulcie was inflicted.

only was her family poor,

death, but she couldn’t leave Budd behind.

down Leanne’s face as she placed Dulcie’s photo in Budd’s hands and held him close.

resentment around Budd stabilized as if he heard Leanne’s words. The glow on the Epoch

subsided,

help but sigh. No one would ever think that emotions could penetrate

Let’s Wait a Little Longer for

22

energy in a villa in the mountains, opened his eyes suddenly. He frowned

West corner.

was

peered at the man on the bed through the layers of veil. “Mr. Quinnell,

soup.”