Chapter 4

"Mom, Dad, are you trying to drive me to my grave?"

Pansy glared at the two of us, fire burning in her eyes.

Her whole face crumpled into a picture of grievance. "We've lived in that house for three years, and you just tell us to move out like it's nothing."

"I said no, and you sent the family's bodyguards to throw our things out. Who gave you the right?"

The bodyguards were mine. I'd sent them.

Because I knew Pansy. She leaned on being the young lady of the Clifford family, certain that as long as she made a scene, nobody would actually dare to force her out.

I spoke without hurry. "Is there a problem with me taking back my own house?"

"If you think I'm in the wrong, go to the police."

After I woke up in this book, I didn't know the whole plot, but I knew one thing: assets were only safe in your own hands.

So Pansy's card was a supplementary card off Reginald's account, and the name on the property deed was mine.

Honestly, the Mannings were both stupid and vicious. They wanted to bleed us dry down to the last heir, but they didn't have the patience to wait even a little.

I wasn't Amos. I had no real feelings for Pansy. It wasn't as if her throwing a tantrum was going to make me cave.

Pansy pressed her lips together, her chest heaving.

Bernice saw it, shot her a look, and stepped forward.

"In-law, what are you doing this for!"

She skipped right over me and smiled with startling warmth. "Oh, come on, we're all one family. What's there to fight about?"

"It's only the baby's surname. Such a small thing—"

"The surname really is a small thing." Reginald cut her off, his face blank. "But money and the house are big things."

"And I think that's how you see it too, because every time I take back money or a house, you get very worked up."

"People I never see suddenly turn up right on cue."

He glanced at Pansy, mockery in his eyes.

"You—" Bernice's face fell, and seeing that Reginald wouldn't budge either, she actually dropped straight down onto the floor and started wailing.

"Oh, rich people, that's what you are! Too good for us ordinary folk!"

"Just using your money to force my grandson to take his grandfather's name!"

The people in the hospital who didn't know the story started pointing and whispering about us.

Seeing everyone lean toward them, Pansy felt even more wronged. "Dad, do you really have to humiliate me like this?"

"Everything I've done, it's all for you two! Why can't you understand me!"

Pansy drew a deep breath and went on. "The Mannings have four sons. Add the wives, and that's eight people supporting two elders."

"Our family only has me. Harold and I are the only two taking care of you both. Do you have any idea how much pressure that is!"

"You need to give us more money so I can keep Harold happy and make him willing to look after you in your old age!"

At that, the accusations aimed at us stuck in everyone's throats, and they all stared at her in disbelief.

Pansy noticed nothing and kept venting her grievances.

"What did my mother-in-law say that was wrong? Isn't it true that the only one you can rely on is me?"

But right then, several officers pushed through the crowd and came in.

The one in front swept a puzzled glance over everyone, then still smiled and spoke.

"Mr. Clifford, you asked us to trace the whereabouts of your son, Norman Clifford. As of now—"

"What!" Pansy cut the officer off like she'd lost her mind. "You were looking for Norman behind my back?"

I glanced at her. "We weren't doing anything behind your back. We've been searching ever since Norman went missing at ten years old."

"You just never cared enough to notice."

Pansy grew even angrier. "Searching since he was ten? Then how much money have you poured into him?"

"Ads in the papers, hiring reporters, buying ad space to post missing-person notices. All of that costs money!"

Hearing this, Harold got worked up too. "Pansy, I told you, didn't I? Your parents favor sons over daughters!"

"All that love they show you is fake. What they really want, deep down, is Norman, their son!"

They almost made me laugh. "Parents searching for their own lost child—what does that have to do with son or daughter?"

Harold ignored me and kept working on her in a low voice.

"You can't let them spend any more money looking for Norman. That's your money they're spending!"

Pansy heard it, and her face went cold. "Mom, Dad, if you choose to keep looking for Norman, then we're cutting ties."

"I'd think it over carefully if I were you. Norman's been gone thirteen years. The odds of getting him back are next to nothing."

"But I'm the child who's actually here, right by your side."

"How you choose is up to you!"

The officer had seen his share of family squabbles.

One look at her, and he understood at once. He spoke with a faint, ambiguous smile. "Don't worry. There won't be any more money spent looking."

"Because we've found him."

The moment he said it, my eyes went straight to Norman in the crowd.

At his words, Pansy's face went pale before our eyes.