Nestling closer to him, Cecilia murmured, âTimes have changed, Mark.
Iâm not the young girl you remember.
â
âBut in my eyes, youâll always be that same young girl.
â
Emotion welled up in Cecilia.
âYou need to think sensibly.
I could have called my father and brother and you didnât have to do this.
Your health isnât great.
What would happen to Edwin and Olivia if something befell you?â
Tears streamed down her face again.
Grasping her hand firmly, Mark finally voiced his thoughts, âCecilia, Iâm Edwinâs dad.
The rain was torrential last night.
If I hadnât stepped in, who else would have? Your fatherâs advancing in age, and your brother has four children as well as Rena to look after.
â
Cecilia looked on in shock.
Mark slowly turned to her, eyes filled with determination.
âEdwin is my son.
Itâs my duty to be there for him.
â
Lost for words, Cecilia simply held Markâs hand, allowing him the peace to rest his eyes.
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The ward door creaked open slightly.
A young boy with a cooling patch still on his forehead peeked in hesitantly.
It was Edwin.
His worry evident, Edwin had persuaded his sitter to bring him to the hospital, fearing for Markâs condition.
Overhearing Markâs acknowledgment of their relationship, Edwinâs eyes shimmered with mixed emotions.
The servant motioned to let Edwin inside, but the boy shook his head, bolting away, only to collide with Peter.
Peter, taken aback, said, âYouâre still ill.
Why are you here at the hospital?â
Lips quivering, Edwin remained silent.
Having encountered many children, Peter intuitively sensed Edwinâs hesitance.
Kneeling down to the boyâs level, Peter comforted, âYour great uncle is okay.
â
âHeâs my dad,â Edwin whispered, before darting away, the servant trailing behind.
Peterâs gaze lingered on the boy, reflecting on Edwinâs privileged lineage and the hardships he had faced, living humbly in a small rental space for years, where even a simple treat like milk tea was a luxury.
Returning to the ward, Peter found Mark restless.