The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 567

How could he even ask that? Was he genuinely curious, or just looking for a way to mock him?

Hawthorne slowed his pace, a restless energy radiating off him. Gwyneth noticed, glancing at him with a puzzled look.

Their eyes met, and the hatred burning in Hawthorne's gaze gradually faded.

"She passed away many years ago," he said at last, forcing down all emotion until his tone turned calm and steady.

After all, it was McNeil who'd tried to wipe out the Everhart family back then. Hawthorne knew the Langfords and the Everharts had once been close, even friends. What he couldn't understand was why McNeil had chosen such ruthless tactics.

Thorpe let out a heavy sigh. "So many people from our past have gone. And somehow, I'm the useless old man left behind."

Some old memory seemed to flicker in Thorpe's expression, a hint of sorrow crossing his wrinkled face. He nodded, eyes resting on Hawthorne.

"If I live long enough to make it back to Greenvale," Thorpe said quietly, "take me

to see your grandfather's memorial. The old friends haven't seen each other in years, and those of us who are left have no one left to talk to."

There was nothing theatrical in Thorpe's sorrow; it rang true. Hawthorne's reply was cool, almost indifferent.

"We'll see."

Hawthorne standing there, she held her tongue and simply started walking

Gwyneth at a steady distance. Suddenly,

Hawthorne-even if he was a little older than their Gwyn, well, a mature

hospital entrance, a car was already waiting to take Thorpe back to the

and Hawthorne. "Come with me, both

still sulking. "No,

face fell.

season-your favorite! I've had a whole basket

practically had to restrain himself from just scooping Gwyneth

voice softened. "Great-granddad, don't make a fuss.

If I let

but laugh, exasperated, but she had no idea

him she wasn't

worry, Thorpe. I'd like to try

he was young,

to talk about

up, he'd smack

great-granddaughter in your hands, then. I'll be

where Gwyneth was headed. After so many years, it was time

in a never-ending sleep, the other wide awake but wishing