His heart ached, for he had never seen Joyce in such pain. In his perception, Joyce was confident, independent, and strong, never succumbing to difficulties. Perhaps nearing childbirth had severely affected her emotions; in just a few days, he had already seen her cry several times.
He did not know how to make her feel better, nor dare to think about how long it would take for her to overcome the pain if he were not there one day.
He had heard that if one continued to feel low after childbirth, they were at risk of postpartum depression. Given his current physical condition, he knew he could not last much longer. To make it to the birth of the child was already a blessing. He could clearly feel his weakening heartbeat, sweating all over, and he dared not tell Joyce that the past two days had brought a slight blurriness to his vision, with frequent double images.
How could he be at ease when she was so distraught?
"We should go back," Joyce insisted.
"Okay, I'll follow your lead," Luther acquiesced.
They embraced on the terrace, the sea breeze gently lifting their clothes. Seemingly warm, yet filled with melancholy.
Little did they know.
This scene was all observed by Anderson.
The young boy hid behind heavy curtains, unnoticed by the average person.
He had heard every word of the conversation between his parents just now.
So, that was what was happening. His father was poisoned, which explained why his mother stayed up late every night researching. Sometimes when he woke up to use the bathroom at night and stealthily pushed open the study door, he would always find his mother diligently searching for information on the computer.
Initially, he did not understand what his mother was doing, only knowing it was related to biopharmaceuticals. Now, he finally understood. He guessed that his father's poisoning must be related to the field of biology.
At such a young age, he felt an unprecedented heaviness in his heart.
After learning the truth, he calmly returned to Alisha's side, pretending to watch her play.
It wasn't until Joyce came to him and softly asked, "Anderson, shall we go home? Mom still has some work to do."
Anderson nodded.
At that moment, Alisha, who was a bit reluctant, protested, "No, I still want to play. I haven't been to the beach yet, I want to build sandcastles. Can't we stay a little longer?"
Joyce was torn, torn between the need to research and not wanting to disappoint her child.
Anderson then pulled Alisha up from the ground. "Let's go, back home. Today, I'll play a new game with you, Bubbly Fun. Isn't that what you've been wanting to play? Besides, this area is all rocky, no beaches around, not much to play with, our main aim was to eat."
"Okay," Alisha pouted, reluctantly agreeing.
The family set off on the return journey.
The RV was lively inside, with Joyce making juice for Anderson.
Alisha soon got tired. The seats inside the RV could be reclined into a small bed, very comfortable. She kicked off her shoes, falling asleep shortly after.
Luther sat beside Alisha, gently patting her back to lull her to sleep.
After a while, Luther, too, leaned against his forehead, falling asleep lightly on the slightly bumpy journey.
Turning around, Joyce noticed Luther had dozed off. She felt sad at this sight. Previously, Luther would have never napped in the day, and she knew his body was fatigued; it was instinctive, hard to hide.
She stood up, took out two thin blankets from the cabinet, covering them both, and adjusted the RV's air conditioning to a warmer setting to prevent them from catching a cold.
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