But Harris grabbed her arm, his tone filled with concern and pity. "If anyone has to go, it won't be you and your mom. Listen to me, you'll stay here."
Seeing that I wasn't responding to their tactics, Harris's so-called gentleness vanished.
He picked up his phone, pointing at me threateningly. "Just wait. After calling Mom, we'll get divorced. I'm her own son, she won't refuse!"
With that, he dialed Linda's number...
Linda's phone was naturally unreachable.
Harris frowned, puzzled, and asked me, "Why can't I get through to my mom's phone?"
From Linda's passing until now, in these two days, I've gradually gotten used to it. It's like peeling layers, burying that lingering pain deep within my heart.
So much so that I could calmly explain, "Linda is gone. Of course, the phone can't be reached."
"What do you mean? What happened to my mom?"
Harris's voice suddenly rose, his pupils dilated as he stared at me, not missing any expression on my face.
His words made Celine's breathing heavier.