Chapter 295: Posthumous Work (End)
Everly swore she had absolutely no intention of responding to Shelly—but what he was saying was simply too outrageous.
What did he mean by “defeating cruel fate and twisting the very fabric of space-time “? Had he polished his memories so much that he’d forgotten how he had fled the Mayflower Apartments in utter panic, stumbling and scrambling for his life?
And that line about “your lives exist only because of my grace”—the nerve of him!
Thomas aside, from the day Everly was born until now, Shelly’s entire contribution amounted to one brief moment of conception, a few months of clumsy childcare when she was an infant, and a pitiful few tens of thousands of dollars tossed her way like alms to a beggar.
The one who had carried and given birth to Everly was her biological mother, Rachel. The one who had raised her was her grandfather, Old John. The one who had bestowed upon her extraordinary abilities and a powerful body—allowing her to survive countless brushes with death—was Mother Lamia. And throughout her journey, those who had reached out to help her, offering support and companionship, were friends like Rebecca, Misha, Orff, and the others.
Aside from occasionally throwing money at her, Shelly had been absent from Everly’s life as a father from beginning to end. Now that he was dead, he still wanted to drag his two children down with him.
Everly wanted nothing more than to point at his nose and curse him out.
What grace?
Look in a mirror, would you? What grace have you ever given anyone?