Chapter 85
Mayor George Clark and his wife Clara arrived in the city with their daughter Lily at dawn. Lily had been vomiting the entire journey, her face as pale as parchment. Clara wept silently, her heart breaking for her daughter, while George chain-smoked, the ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts.
"George, do you think that Harold boy will take responsibility?" Clara asked anxiously.
George crushed his cigarette with a snarl. "He'd better."
The Martin family had a terrible reputation in their village, especially Harold's mother—a notorious gossip and penny-pincher. The thought of marrying Lily into such a family made Clara feel as though a knife were twisting in her chest.
At the factory gates, the security guard eyed them suspiciously. "Looking for Harold Martin? What's your relation?"
"Family," George replied with a forced chuckle.
Inside the factory, Harold was flirting with a female worker, Miss Cui. Ever since he'd started seeing city girls, he'd found Lily embarrassingly provincial. But what did it matter? The deed was done—that country girl wasn't going anywhere.
"Harold Martin, you have visitors at the gate!" the loudspeaker blared.
Harold sauntered over, only to freeze when he recognized the three figures waiting for him—the mayor, his wife, and Lily, all glaring at him with murderous intensity. Clara's eyes burned with fury, as if she wanted to skin him alive.
"Uncle, Auntie, what brings you here?" he asked, feigning calm.
Lily rushed forward, tears streaming as she clutched his sleeve. Clara trembled with rage. "Lily! Get back here!"
"Mom..." Lily whimpered but stayed rooted in place.
SMACK! Clara slapped her daughter's back. "You disgraceful girl!"
George's voice was low and dangerous. "Let's talk somewhere private."
They moved to the basketball court. George cut straight to the point. "Harold, what are your intentions with Lily?"
Harold's eyes darted shiftily. "Uncle, what do you mean? There's nothing between us."
CRACK! A sharp slap sent his head snapping to the side. Clara exploded. "You lying bastard! My daughter is carrying your child, and you dare play dumb? Should I march straight to the factory director's office?"
Harold clutched his stinging cheek, stunned. Lily's pregnant? This was bad. His gaze flicked nervously toward the workshop, praying Miss Cui hadn't seen anything.