Turning Of The Tide (Natalie and Trevon) novel Chapter 4

Chapter 4 

The early autumn night came earlier than before, the moon was high in the sky, and the twinkling stars lit up the courtyard. What a beautiful night, but… 

Natalie was leaning against the doorway, looking up at the beautiful scenery. She bit her cigarette, expressing a sense of helplessness, confusion, and reluctance in the hazy smoke. 

As she waited for the cigarette to burn out, she adjusted her leather jacket and headed upstairs. Her footsteps were as light as a feather, and she had never been so afraid to open the door to her grandfather’s bedroom. 

She took a deep breath, gently turned the door lock, walked to the bedside of Mr. Barron Foster, and looked at her loved grandpa, who was as thin as a skeleton on the bed. She slowly extended her right hand’s index and middle fingers to feel his breath. 

Just for a second, a hint of restraint curved her lips. She slowly sat by the bed and held her grandfather’s icy cold hand, placing it on her chest, trying to warm it up. “Grandpa, you’re so naughty. How can you break your promise? We agreed to sleep together tonight. Why did you sleep first? You didn’t even give me this last chance. You’re so old and still acting like a child. Didn’t you teach me since I was young to keep my promises and not to lie?” 

She wiped away a tear and looked blankly at the pale figure on the bed, continuing to ramble, “Grandpa, if I don’t get married today, will you not leave? Do you think you can leave with peace of mind by entrusting me to the Wilson family? Where will I have a home without you?” 

After crying for a long time, she held her grandpa’s hand quietly and chatted incessantly, talking about everything from when she was little until now…. 

Due to the psychological quality of a doctor and the toughness she developed since childhood, she did not continue to sit there. After chatting with her grandfather, she got up and went to the bathroom to fetch warm water. She carefully washed and combed her grandfather’s hair. 

She went to the wardrobe again to find the new clothes she had bought for her grandfather previously. Barron liked it very much at that time and praised her for having good taste. 

She got herself together and tried to do her best, resisting the urge to cry because her grandpa didn’t like it. 

Standing at the stairway, she shouted to the servants, “Come up here, all of you!” 

“What’s wrong, Miss?” Two servants hurriedly ran up, looking at her slightly swollen and reddened eyes with a sense of 

uncase. 

“Call the people who deal with funeral arrangements. Grandpa has left us.” She asked for the kind of company that specialized in handling these matters, plus some priests to pray for her grandpa. Barron was a devout believer while he was alive. 

“Miss, do you want me to call your father?” the servant said, crying. Her voice was discontinuous. 

“No need. Let Grandpa rest peacefully for the night. I will accompany him tonight.” Barron did not mention a word about Natalie’s so–called blood–related father before leaving. As Grandpa’s only son, Natalie could not stop him from paying respects, but she also did not want to reach out to him proactively. 

The word “father disappeared from her vocabulary a long time ago. She didn’t know what to call him ever since she was ten. 

Initially, the house was quiet. Only the gentle breeze brushing past the leaves made a rustling sound. It was the only thing that made it seem less quiet. 

But now, people were coming in and out of the courtyard, busy and bustling. The lights were as bright as daylight, but it did not seem lively at all, but rather desolate and lonely everywhere. 

Because she was the only one left. 

The Wilson’s old residence was also lit up like daylight. Normally at this time, Theo Wilson would have been asleep. But he heard that Barron Foster only had a few days left to live. It seemed like Theo had been waiting these past few nights. 

The butler, Danny, came rushing into the study and gasped, “Sir, Mr. Barron Foster, he’s gone.” 

Theo Wilson looked at the unfinished painting in front of him and paused with the brush in his hand. He let out a sigh and said, “Go get the car ready to go to Barron’s place. Call Trevon and tell him to hurry up. Remind him not to drive his flashy 

car over.” 

“Yes, sir. I’ll go take care of it now,” said Danny. 

The mourning hall in the courtyard had been completely set up. Natalie personally supervised every little detail. Barron was all about the details when he was alive. He always said that attention to detail determined success or failure and that one should be careful and cautious in whatever he did. 

Hearing the hurried footsteps and the thumping sound of the cane hitting the ground, Natalie turned her head while kneeling only to see that the first person who arrived was her newlywed husband’s grandfather, who she had met for the first time today. 

She didn’t know why such a big shot like Mr. Theo Wilson would care so much about her grandpa. She wanted to ask her grandpa about it today, but she didn’t have the time… 

“Hello, Mr. Wilson,” she addressed politely. 

“Kid, you’ve been through a lot. Take care of yourself and stay strong.” 

After Theo Wilson presented flowers, he stood by Barron Foster’s body for quite some time. From Natalie’s kneeling position, she could see the tears in his eyes shining under the reflection of the lights. 

On the Mercedes, Theo Wilson didn’t look good. He picked up his phone with a dark face and called Trevon, “Where are you?” His tone was quite intimidating, indicating that he was very angry. 

Even Danny, who was driving in front, sensed his anger. 

From the other side came the unhurried, flat tone “company.”