Chapter 93

These comics were Marcel’s pride and joy! He had to twist Major Garnett’s arm to finally snag them, and now he was hooked right in the thick of the juicy bits!

Marcel had spent a lifetime in uniform, always the picture of stone–faced seriousness, but for these comics, he was practically on his knees, clinging to his granddaughter’s arm, begging.

The moment Calvin heard that Noella was the one dishing out the prescriptions, he zipped his lip, grabbed the meds his granddaughter handed him, and was out like a light all afternoon.

Now, he just swung by to scribble a signature on the prescriptions that Noella whipped up, just going through the motions.

Officially, Calvin was still the head honcho doc, but let’s be real, the power to spring Marcel from the hospital lay in the hands of his darling granddaughter!

“Noella, can’t you leave just one for Grandpa? I’m at the good part, about to hit the motherlode of the plot!”

Seeing Marcel get the same treatment, Sexton was having a field day, grinning from ear to ear. “What’s so great about those ratty comics anyway? You’ve been through a stack of them and still no clue who’s kiddo that is.”

Sexton had flipped through some of Marcel’s comics himself.

“But the next issue is gonna spill the beans, right? Just leave me one!”

Noella picked up a comic, thumbing through it nonchalantly.

“Why’s it in Gerastor?”

Marcel chuckled. “The comic’s called Tandy, a Gerastor artist. I learned Gerastor just for this! Memorizing words at my age, talk about a slog!”

His nightstand was still piled high with dictionaries!

Tandy?

Never heard of this comic artist.

in hand. It was a stunner, bold colors, a

the last panel. It showed a heart–shaped orphanage next to a

Tandy Hospital!

earth was Marcel’s comic

puppy–dog eyes. “Grandpa, I’ll hold onto these

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Chapter 93

bed, hamming up every

for me? Noella, if I kick the bucket, promise you’ll spill the

for words. Where was that dignified,

word got out, jaws would hit the

out you’ve been up all

comic from Noella’s hand, darting back to his room. fearing the last issue might get swiped.

else, rushed back, and snapped a bunch of selfies with his precious granddaughter.

coot Merrick show

lap on his socials, Marcel

watched his retreat, a mix of exasperation and amusement. Guess the old man still had some pep in his

After you tie the knot with Palmer, you’ll bunk with

Great–grandkid…

counting chickens. Seeing the old man’s bubble

I’ll drop by

Sexton clasped Noella’s hand, snuck a small box from under the bed, and slipped it into her hand while Palmer

was back to whispering sweet

a good long life. A pill more or less won’t kill me. Don’t overdo it, promise

the little box into her sleeve,

good, Grandpa Sexton. You rest up. I’m

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