Chapter 1111: Chapter 1111: Successful Persuasion (4)_1
"..."
Old Master Wright didn’t look at her again.
Not until the sound of the hospital door closing did he move his gaze from the window and glance at the tightly shut door, cursing Flossie Wright in his heart for her lack of tact; his eyes then fell upon the porridge placed beside the bed.
After a moment’s thought, filled with resentment, he reached out to touch it, only to find that it still retained some warmth.
At least there’s a bit of conscience left!
The resentment in Old Master Wright’s heart dissipated somewhat.
...
Having obtained Old Master Wright’s consent, the one major problem for Flossie Wright was thus smoothly resolved.
As for the issue between Regan Wright and Olivia Hamilton, she believed that Old Master Wright would handle it.
After all, even if they were opposed, they couldn’t interfere with the Forces’ affairs. And now that Old Master Wright was convinced, the factors threatening the Forces naturally vanished.
But—
She didn’t know when Grady Wright visited the hospital at noon and learned that Old Master Wright had changed his mind, the fury inside him could barely be contained—only in the hospital!
Just when he thought that Flossie Wright leaving the Forces was hopeful, in just a few days, Flossie had managed to win over the old gentleman!
How could he accept this?!
One thing after another, it was endless!
Therefore, during the afternoon memorial service, his face was dark throughout. The guests all thought his gloom stemmed from his wife’s passing, utterly unaware that his raging anger originated wholly from Flossie Wright, playing the role of a filial daughter at their side.
After struggling until 8 o’clock at night, the memorial service finally ended.
Flossie Wright, battle-hardened, stood all day without an issue.
But Helen Wright was different. Pregnant, with rather severe morning sickness, she was frail after the day’s ordeal, collapsing at home without eating dinner, retreating directly to her room.
Late evening, around ten o’clock.
After dining and taking a bath, Flossie Wright rested for a bit before picking up her fully charged phone.
Rarely enough, she managed to get through to Glenn Hutchinson’s phone.
At this time, there shouldn’t have been any training, but after calling twice, no one answered.
Changing the topic and persuading Old Master Wright had been Glenn’s idea.
She owed Glenn Hutchinson thanks.
Unexpectedly—
The call went unanswered.
Frowning slightly, Flossie Wright thought for a moment before making a third call.
This time, someone answered.
"What’s up?"
Right after answering, an icy tone came from the other end, completely unfamiliar.
"Who is this...?"
On guard, Flossie asked.
"His friend." The reply was short and clear, the magnetic voice calm, betraying no emotion.
"Where is he?" Flossie didn’t relax, questioning again.
"He’s on a mission."
The response was in the same tone.
A mission?
Though Glenn Hutchinson had never mentioned it to her, he hadn’t shared much about his Forces’ affairs with her either.
With that thought, Flossie relaxed slightly, "When will he return?"
"In a week."
"Thanks." Flossie offered a faint word of thanks.
But as soon as she had spoken,
The call was abruptly ended.
Frowning, Flossie glanced at her mobile, somewhat puzzled.
Who was that, so cold?
Regardless, in her memory, she had never encountered this person.
Having never met, the memory was elusive; thinking further was pointless.
Hence, she stopped pondering, tossed aside her phone, and climbed into bed.
To sleep.
...
The following day.
Merry Otiz was sent to the crematorium.
It only required a morning.
In life, Merry Otiz was so proud and confident, even indulgent, but if she knew how simple her funeral would be after her death, would she crumble?
Following procedure, Flossie’s obligation was nearly finished once Merry’s ashes were delivered.
There’d be a burial in the afternoon, but as Flossie had only taken three days of leave, she was leaving in the afternoon and naturally couldn’t partake in this last ritual.
"Your sister’s not feeling well, send her home first."
Around noon, Regan Wright stopped Flossie Wright as she was about to leave, pushing a frail Helen Wright onto her.
"Oh."
Flossie nodded, accepting this task.
In just these two days, she could clearly see Regan Wright aging.
Company affairs were naturally delayed. Without his wife, his father hospitalized, his second daughter jilted, and his eldest still with the Forces, nothing was going his way.
Burdened with pressure and the weight of public opinion, Regan Wright rarely had a moment to breathe.
Flossie was not insensitive, so during the funeral, she didn’t cause him further distress.
Even when visitors whispered not-so-kind words about her, she pretended not to hear, dutifully going about her tasks.
Because, justified or not, any commotion she caused would be deemed her fault.
It would only embarrass Regan Wright.
For now, this small matter, she naturally followed Regan Wright’s wishes.
"Sister."
Helen approached, looking a bit pale, and softly called out to her.
Seeing the ease between them, Regan Wright felt reassured and reminded them, "Be careful on the road."
"Mm."
"Got it."
Flossie and Helen both responded to him, one after the other.
Pleased with their demeanor, Regan Wright waved his hand, indicating that they could leave.
"Daddy, what’s wrong with Sister?"
At some point, Grady Wright, dressed in mourning attire, approached Regan Wright and tilted his head, looking at the departing figures of Flossie and Helen.
"She’s sick."
Regan kept his answer simple.
"Is Big Sister taking her to the hospital?" Grady looked up inquiringly.
Seeing his son caring for his sister, Regan’s frown eased as he explained, "She’ll be fine soon."
"But Sister has been ill for a long time now," Grady scratched his head, his face full of concern, muttering, "It’s been many days now, and she keeps throwing up."
"Throwing up?"
With furrowed brows, Regan was puzzled but paused for a few seconds, as if suddenly realizing something, his eyes darkening sharply.
Could it be—
She’s pregnant?
