Chapter 393 Don’t Touch My Grandma
After Zion left, the office fell silent again.
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Jonathan sat there, not turning the page of the document before him. After a while, he let go of the pen and pressed his hand against his tense forehead.
He opened the bottom drawer on his right, pulling out a square box buried under some files.
Opening the box, he stared at the old, orange badge lying quietly inside. He reached for it, but as soon as his fingers touched the badge, he clenched his hand tightly.
The burned patch on the back of his hand throbbed painfully from the movement.
The pain seemed to spread through his whole body. Suddenly, it was as if heat waves and thick smoke filled his vision once more.
He saw a tall figure break through the flames and smoke, running straight for him and carrying him on his back.
“Don’t be scared, kid, I’ll get you out of here!
“Hang in there! I have a daughter, she’s a few years younger than you. When we get out, I’ll introduce you two, how about it?”
Then there was fire, a blast, an explosion–followed by the roar of sirens, screams, and people wailing.
Jonathan closed his eyes, and it all felt like everything was happening right before him.
The scene soon shifted. That strong, lively figure turned into a black–and–white portrait in a funeral hall.
Next to his picture was a portrait of a gentle woman.
She was his wife. She’d been pregnant at the time. When she heard the news of his death, she collapsed in shock and fell down the stairs, losing both her own life and their unborn child.
Then, the scene shifted again. He saw a teenage boy step into the funeral hall, carrying a bouquet. He gazed at the two portraits, grief and guilt written across his face.
His eyes drifted to an elderly woman and a little girl, both thin and frail, standing by the funeral hall.
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Chapter 393 Don’t Touch My Grandma
The old woman’s face was blank, unmoving as she held the little girl’s hand.
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The girl’s long hair hung loose, her head bowed so low that she seemed afraid to cry out loud, Large tears gathered on her pointed chin and dropped to the floor.
The boy was about to walk over when a man who looked like an official stepped up to the old lady and spoke a few words. Suddenly, the old woman lifted her head and stared straight at him.
Her worn, blank face twisted with grief and rage as she rushed at him, shoving and shouting,
“You get out! Get out! You killed my daughter’s whole family. It’s all your fault! We don’t need your mourning! Get out, all of you!”
The bouquet slipped from the boy’s hand, and he stumbled back. But in the next second, the old lady fainted from her overwhelming emotions.
The boy lunged to catch her, but he was too thin to hold her up, and they both crashed to the ground.
The little girl seemed stunned by what had happened. It was only when she saw her grandma faint that she rushed over.
She knelt on the ground, pulling at her grandma, her cries filled with fear.
“Grandma! Please, wake up, Grandma! Don’t you want Anne anymore? Grandma!”
The boy scrambled up to check on the old lady, but the girl pushed him away with all her strength.
“Don’t touch my grandma! Get out!”
Her hands were small, yet her tears splattered onto the boy’s hand, burning as if they were scalding his skin.
He recoiled, knocked off balance by her shove. Security guards hurried over, picking him up and shielding him.
“Nishay lost her husband when she was still young. Lorraine was her only daughter, and she raised her all on her own. Lorraine finally got pregnant after getting married, and now this happened. No wonder she can’t accept it–it’s just so tragic.”
“I heard Frederick carried that young boy out of the fire himself. No one knows what the young boy said to him, because Frederick ran back in, and then the place exploded.”
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Chapter 393 Don’t Touch My Grandma
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“This family’s got money and power. I heard they’re from Halden. They must be some kind of big shots. I say Nishay should have just gotten along with them, then she wouldn’t have to worry about her old age…”
“What are you saying? Would you trade your son’s life for a few million bucks?”
“Please! My son’s our only child! Watch your mouth.”
The funeral hall was in chaos, everyone talking over one another.
Jonathan’s chest rose and fell as he suddenly opened his eyes, the voices of the old lady and the girl still ringing in his ears.
“It’s all your fault! Get out! All of you!
“Get out!”
Jonathan’s brow twitched. He reached into the box and picked up the badge.
One edge of the badge had been burned off. It was covered in soot, faded, and worn.
He turned the badge over. Two lines of text were embroidered on the back.
Name: Frederick Claude
Blood type: AB
He brushed his finger gently over the corner of the badge, the weight of the years pressing down on him like a stone.
Knock knock knock.
There was a knock at the door. Jonathan put the badge back in the box, closed the drawer, and spoke in a low voice.
