“I’m just glad I got my mom’s kindness,” Larry said, his voice cool and steady. “Honestly, I’m ashamed to have Adams blood.”
The words hung in the air. Mr. Adams’s face went pale, the color draining out of him all at once. He understood, maybe for the first time, that some mistakes just can’t be taken back. Edwin had been right. Larry would never forgive him.
Taking a shaky breath, Mr. Adams turned and left Larry’s house. He looked smaller than ever, his shoulders slumped, his steps unsteady. In that moment, he seemed to age ten years. When he reached his car, he nearly tripped, and the driver rushed over, catching him just in time.
“Careful, sir,” the driver said softly.
He helped Mr. Adams into the backseat, then noticed the old man’s red eyes. Tears slipped down his face, his hands trembling with emotion.
“Is everything alright, sir?” The driver wasn’t sure what to do.
Mr. Adams wiped his cheeks, gaze fixed on the brightly lit house behind them. “I was just thinking… no matter what I do, the Adams family can never make it up to that boy. I keep asking myself why I couldn’t have been better to him before.”
The driver fell silent, not knowing what to say.
Inside, Larry stood at the window, watching that car outside. He didn’t touch the stack of papers on the table. He tried to act calm, but inside he was a mess. He wasn’t as indifferent as he wanted people to believe. It hurt… a lot.
Back then, he’d really cared about his grandfather. The whole Adams family had always treated him like an outsider. Brian bullied him constantly, and none of the staff ever stepped in. They just looked away, pretending not to see it. Only his grandfather had ever shown him any real kindness, sometimes stepping in to stop Brian.



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