Chapter 142

Frank Harris lay on the bed, his fingers absently tracing the edge of the quilt. It had been eight days since he'd been confined to bed, and his entire body ached as if his bones had come apart. A hardworking man all his life, this was the first time he'd ever been forced to lie idle.

"Frank, time for your medicine," Maya Harris said, stepping into the room with a bowl of dark brown liquid, her brow furrowed.

Frank took the bowl and downed the bitter concoction in one gulp. The bitterness on his tongue was nothing compared to the bitterness in his heart. He had already made plans—once he recovered, he would take Maya to town and reopen their shop. The money they'd saved over the years would be enough to buy a small courtyard home, with a shop in front and living quarters in the back. They could make a life there.

"What about... Frank Jr. and..." Frank's words trailed off before he could finish.

Maya set the bowl down heavily on the table. "Still thinking about that ungrateful brat?"

Just then, footsteps sounded outside. The elderly woman shuffled in with her cane, her sharp eyes scanning the room.

"Frank, feeling any better?" she asked, her tone uncharacteristically soft.

Maya tensed immediately, discreetly tugging at Frank's sleeve.

"Mom, this illness..." Frank coughed weakly. "I don't think I'll recover anytime soon."

The old woman sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. "Frank Jr. is getting married soon. There'll be a lot of people coming and going in the house. Your room reeks of medicine—why don't you go stay with Daisy for a few days?"

Frank bolted upright, wincing as pain shot through his injuries. "Mom, are you kicking me out?"

"Nonsense!" The old woman's face hardened. "I'm thinking of you. What can you do for the village in your condition? At least at Daisy's place, someone can take care of you."

Maya let out a cold laugh. "Mom, you're just afraid we'll be a burden, aren't you?"

The old woman's expression darkened. "Frank, let me be blunt. You're in no state to support us in our old age. Consider the house as payment for your filial duty. Didn't Daisy's husband say he'd take care of you?"

Frank felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head. "Mom, I'm your own son!"

"Exactly why I'm doing this for your own good!" The old woman slapped the edge of the bed. "Do you want to keep fighting with Frank Jr. every day?"

Maya suddenly stood up. "Fine, we'll leave. But we're drawing up a contract, with the mayor as witness."

The old woman hadn't expected her daughter-in-law to agree so readily and was momentarily stunned.

That afternoon, the mayor arrived with several elders. The agreement was clear in black and white: the two rooms would serve as repayment for their filial obligation, and neither party owed the other anything from that day forward.

Frank's hand trembled as he pressed his fingerprint onto the paper, tears splashing onto the document and smudging the ink.

"Dad!" A voice called from outside the courtyard. Daisy rushed in, her eyes red, followed by her husband, Charles.

Maya had secretly called their daughter earlier. Watching them busily pack their belongings, Frank finally broke down, tears streaming down his weathered face.

"Let's go," he said, casting one last look at the courtyard where he'd spent most of his life. "I'm never coming back."

Charles helped his father-in-law onto the tractor. As the engine roared to life, Frank stared at the village growing smaller in the distance, feeling as if a piece of his heart had been torn out.

Maya gripped his hand tightly. "We'll... start over."

The tractor kicked up a cloud of dust as it carried the couple toward an uncertain future.