Jillian Carter lay pale on the sickbed, and when she saw Father Carter and Mother Carter come in, her tears fell instantly.
"Dad~ Mom~" That one call was full of grievance.
"You need to change how you address them. Starting from today, you're not anymore." Brooke Black stood at the ward door and cut in coolly.
Jillian was now the target of thousands cursing and tens of thousands damning her. Was she pitiful?
Brooke didn't think she was pitiful at all.
Because, here, little Jane had already gone through these two days first.
Little Jane was innocent.
Jillian really had only herself to blame.
"We won't take back the dowry we gave you in the house when you got married, and we won't take back the stuff your grandparents gave you. Later, live well. You already have plenty, much more than ordinary people. I hope through this time, later, you can wake up, grow up, and learn to live your days well on your own." This was the last piece of advice Father Carter, as a father, could give.
