CHAPTER 167: CHAPTER 167: FAMILY REUNION

Diana Sawyer saw Jean Ellison standing dazedly by the dining table with her phone in hand. She walked over and asked softly, "What’s wrong? Is something the matter?"

Jean Ellison seemed startled, immediately turning the phone screen face-down on the table and shaking her head.

"Nothing."

She changed the subject, "Where’s Aunt Mason? Still not back yet?"

Diana Sawyer checked the time and said, "Mom saw it was raining heavily and worried you might not get back soon, so she went to pick up Jesse from kindergarten. They should be home soon."

Jean Ellison nodded, "Then I’ll start making dinner."

"Alright," replied Diana Sawyer.

Jean Ellison went into the kitchen, put on an apron, and began preparing dinner.

She washed vegetables, chopped them, and turned on the stove, her actions somewhat mechanical.

But uncontrollably, her mind kept replaying the message Justin Holden had just sent her.

His arm was injured.

He got hurt while retrieving the necklace, and it looked serious.

Living alone next door, with a bad arm, it would likely be hard for him to cook for himself.

He could only order takeout. But in New York, most takeout consists of pizzas, burgers, salads, mostly cold and raw food.

She remembered clearly that Justin’s stomach was always delicate and couldn’t handle anything too cold or stimulating.

Back in college, his frequent social events would often upset his stomach.

Now that he’s here, he probably can’t get used to those foods either.

She absentmindedly cooked while her head filled with these scattered thoughts.

Once she placed the three dishes and cooked rice on the table, she realized the rice in the pot was far more than enough for four people, piled high like a small mountain.

She stared at the large pot of rice, momentarily dumbfounded.

Just then, the sound of a key turning at the door signaled Aunt Mason’s return with Jesse.

"Mommy."

Jesse changed his shoes, ran to the dining table, and pointed excitedly at one of the dishes with bright eyes.

"It’s corn and rib soup, Uncle Holden’s favorite."

Aunt Mason put down her umbrella, glanced at the clearly excessive food on the table, especially the large pot of rice, and immediately understood.

She sighed softly, didn’t say much, and simply walked into the kitchen, took out a clean preservation box.

"Miss, there’s too much food; it won’t be finished."

Aunt Mason said as she packed rice into the box, adding extra corn and ribs.

"I’ll take some over next door to Young Master Holden, since we’re neighbors, and with his injured arm, he probably can’t make his own meals."

Jean Ellison stood silently on the side, neither stopping nor agreeing.

Aunt Mason packed the meal, closed the lid, and carried the box out the door. She walked to the apartment door of number seventy-seven next door and pressed the doorbell.

The door opened, and Justin Holden stood at the entrance.

He was wearing casual clothes, and his left arm seemed indeed a bit stiff.

When he saw Aunt Mason instead of the one figure he subconsciously hoped for, his brows furrowed.

"Young Master Holden," Aunt Mason said with a kindly smile, handing over the box. "Jean made some home-cooked dishes; they taste pretty good. Since your arm isn’t convenient, we thought to bring you some. Have them while they’re hot."

Justin Holden took the still slightly warm box and said quietly, "Thank you, Aunt Mason."

"You’re welcome," Aunt Mason said, looking at him, and added, "Jean was out running errands all day and got caught in the rain earlier, not feeling well, so I didn’t let her come over. Just return the empty box afterwards to me."

She said this naturally, as if just offhandedly.

Justin Holden’s grip on the box tightened, and he nodded.

"Okay. I understand."

Aunt Mason smiled at him, said nothing more, and turned back to her own home.

Shutting the door behind her, Aunt Mason sighed lightly.

How could she not see through Jean’s mind?

Cooking so much rice, making Justin’s favorite dishes.

In her heart, Miss just couldn’t let go.

She also felt for Jesse, hoping the child could be with his biological parents, having a complete family.

What she did was merely to give Justin a reason, an opportunity to rightfully come and see Jean.

The rest was up to their own fate.

Justin Holden stood behind the door, looking at the weighty meal box in his hands, the familiar aroma of the dishes causing him to pause in a daze.

Aunt Mason’s last words echoed in his ears.

After finishing the meal, Justin Holden carefully washed the box clean.

He took the clean box and walked to apartment door number seventy-five next door.

The door was ajar, slightly open.

He gently pushed the door open and went inside.

Several pairs of slippers sat at the entrance, judging by their style and size, likely belonging to Aunt Mason, Diana Sawyer, and Jesse.

The living room was very quiet; no one was around. It seemed they were not home.

He placed the box gently on the dining table in the living room.

His gaze swept over the tightly closed bedroom door, a dim light seeped from under the door, perhaps the bedside lamp was on inside.

He hesitated for a moment but still took a few steps towards the bedroom.

Through the slightly ajar door, he saw Jean Ellison lying on the bed, appearing to be asleep.

She had changed into soft pajamas, her long hair spread across the pillow, her face showing signs of fatigue.

Justin Holden quietly stepped into the bedroom.

He intended to adjust the slightly fallen blanket for her.

Just as he approached the bedside, he heard Jean Ellison uttering uneasy murmurs, her voice tinged with sobs.

"Dad... Dad..."

Justin Holden knew that her parents were both deceased, and they had passed away during her time in prison, which was a huge blow to her.

He reached out his hand, wanting to gently pat her shoulder in comfort.

As soon as his hand touched her blanket, Jean’s somnolent murmurs became more urgent and terrified, and her body began to slightly struggle.

"Don’t jump, don’t jump!"

Justin Holden’s hand, which was ready to pat her back, froze in mid-air.

Don’t jump?

Who shouldn’t jump? Jump what?

He leaned down, got close to her, and asked in a lowered voice, "Jean, don’t jump what?"

Jean, immersed in her nightmare, did not respond, her brows tightly knitted, fine beads of sweat seeping from her forehead.

Unwilling to give up, Justin asked again, his voice clearer this time.

"Who’s jumping? Tell me."

Jean’s lips moved, producing a few extremely indistinct syllables, her voice too soft and vague for Justin to hear clearly.

At that moment, the sound of keys turning and a door opening came from the apartment entrance.

Next were the voices of Aunt Mason and Jesse.

"Jesse, change your shoes first."

"Grandma, I want to eat strawberries."

"Okay, Grandma will wash them for you."

Justin immediately straightened up, swiftly and silently left the bedroom, gently closing the door behind him.

He had just reached the living room when he came face to face with Aunt Mason, who was carrying shopping bags and holding Jesse’s hand.

Aunt Mason was a bit surprised to see Justin coming from the direction of the bedroom, but she quickly returned to normal and didn’t ask any questions.

She looked down and told Jesse, "Jesse, go wash your hands and face first, get ready for bed, and Grandma will tell you a story later."

Jesse obediently agreed and ran towards the bathroom.

Only then did Aunt Mason look at Justin and naturally asked, "Young Master Holden, what were you doing...?"

Justin appeared calm and pointed to the empty lunch box on the dining table. "I came to return the lunch box. Thank you for the dinner."

Aunt Mason nodded, "Alright, sorry for the trouble."

Justin’s gaze inadvertently swept over the tightly closed bedroom door again, Jean’s indistinct, terrified murmurs still lingering in his mind.

"Don’t jump..."

What did that mean, exactly?

In the old Holden residence living room, the atmosphere was slightly dull.

Leah Sutton, wearing a loose maternity dress, her visibly pregnant belly apparent, spoke to Mr. and Mrs. Holden sitting on the sofa.

"Uncle, Auntie, I plan to go abroad for the delivery, the medical environment there is better."

Upon hearing this, Mrs. Holden looked worried.

"Go abroad? By yourself?"

"How could that be, your uncle and I are getting old, we can’t endure long trips, we might not be able to accompany you there."

Zoe Holden, sitting next to her mother, chimed in at the right moment, her tone light.

"Mom, don’t worry. I’ll go with Leah. I’m also pregnant anyway, going out for a change of scenery, changing the environment, it’s good for the baby too."

She estimated, "Probably just a little over half a year, once the baby is born safely, we’ll be back, by then Leah will bring the grandchild back to see you both."

Mrs. Holden looked at Leah, then at her own daughter, still a bit uneasy.

"Just you two pregnant women out there, I still don’t feel at ease. Let Nanny Warren go with you, she’s attentive in taking care of people."

Leah immediately shook her head in refusal, her tone deliberately distant.

"No need, Auntie, once we’re there we’ll hire professional nannies and nurses, I’m not used to unfamiliar people taking care of me, it feels awkward."

Seeing her determined stance, Mrs. Holden opened her mouth but eventually sighed, not insisting further.

"...Alright then, be careful with everything while you’re out."

Leah turned to Mr. Holden, who had been silently reading the newspaper, her tone more respectful.

"Uncle, I’ll be leaving now, please take care of your health."

Mr. Holden lifted his eyes from the newspaper and glanced at her, looking calm and emotionless, his tone also void of any discernible emotion.

"Mm, go on, take care of yourself."

Throughout, he never mentioned the child in her belly.

A hint of disappointment flashed in Leah’s eyes, but she quickly concealed it.

She nodded slightly and turned to the door.

The driver was already waiting there with her suitcase.

Zoe also picked up her bag, said goodbye to her parents, and left with Leah.

After hearing the car engine sound fade away, Mr. Holden slowly put down the newspaper in his hand.

Mrs. Holden was still looking towards the door, worried.

"Just letting the two of them go out like this, I’m really not at ease..."

Mr. Holden’s face remained expressionless, and he lightly said.

"Isn’t it better that they’ve left."

He picked up his phone from beside him, found his son’s number, and dialed it.

Once the call connected, he succinctly said, "Justin, if there’s nothing important in the United States, come back, it’s just me and your mom left at home."

The implication was clear, Leah had already left and wouldn’t trouble him anymore.

As for the child in her belly, a miscarriage was only a matter of time.