The Unfortunate Are the Most Resentful


    Grace was petrified as she stared at me, trying to determine if I was telling the truth. She also observed


    my expression to see if I was being nice. She looked skeptical as she gazed at my seemingly gentle


    demeanor.


    I realized why some people hated others. It was because of the things they did in the past.


    Finally, Grace looked away and mumbled, “I–I just… want to see her.”


    My heart softened as I looked at Grace. It had been nearly half a year since she saw Ava. Thest time


    might’ve been when they stayed at my ce before my divorce. They probably hadn’t met since then.


    I knew it must’ve taken a lot of courage for Grace to stand here now. I calmly said, “You have my


    number,


    so you can call me whenever you want to see her.”


    She looked at me doubtfully and said, “Y–You’ll… allow me to see her? You’re not going to… stop me?”


    I answered, “I never said you couldn’t see Ava. I just don’t want you to disturb or hurt her normal life. I


    won’t stop you if you can do that.”


    Grace became teary–eyed and dropped her guard. She looked at me pitifully as she trembled. “How


    could


    I hurt her? She’s my…”This text is property of N?/velD/rama.Org.


    She nced at me before continuing. “She’s my granddaughter.


    I led her to the shade of a tree and gave her a pack of tissues from my bag. Then, I fetched a water


    bottle


    from the car. She had been waiting for quite some time and was sweating profusely.


    Grace still seemed wary of me, maybe even resentful. I realized she had always resented me living in


    this


    house. She had lived through hard times and had developed a strong attachment to this type of house,


    which she watched me “upy” with envy.


    I took out my phone and called my mom, asking if they hade out yet. I informed her that Grace


    was


    waiting at the gate and wanted to see Ava.


    My mom remained silent on the phone, but I understood her reluctance. After all, the harm the Murphys


    Inflicted on us was hard to ovee.


    Grace observed my expression as I made the call. She looked sad as she gripped the water bottle,


    orumping it. Finally, my mom reluctantly agreed, and I sighed in relief before asking my mom, “Should I


    No need. We’reing out now, my mom still sounded reluctant.


    I hung up the phone and looked at Grace,forting her, “They’ll be out in a moment. Don’t worry.”


    “Ah… okay…” Grace nodded as if relieved of a burden. She checked herself over and smoothed her


    hair before wiping the sweat off her forehead.


    It pained my heart to see that. If Grace were my mom, seeing her so sad would have killed me. I felt


    her. sadness from a mother’s perspective. She seemed embarrassed in my presence, so she moved


    back under the scorching sun and stood at the gate.


    She craned her neck to peer inside while I watched from afar. I noticed Grace looked anxious and


    modest, but I couldn’t leave for fear the situation might turn unpleasant.


    Finally, I saw Grace smile as she stood still, as if she feared losing sight of Ava. As my daughter got


    closer, Grace grew more anxious. Thetter was eager to enter the gate but had no key card.


    A momentter, Ava noticed her. It seemed my mom hadn’t told her that Grace was waiting at the gate.


    Ava was surprised and held my mom’s hand. My daughter was hesitant and unwilling to greet Grace,


    looking conflicted.


    Ava looked up at my mom, unwilling to take another step.