Flash Marriage to a Stunning CEO (Alistair and Richard)

Chapter 72 The Poor Child

On the way home, Alistair kept a close eye on Caroline, noting

with relief that she showed no further signs of discomfort.

Still, he couldn't completely relax. He wasn't fooled. The low blood sugar was clearly just an excuse. But since Caroline didn't want to talk about it, he didn't press the issue.

What's the deal with that house in front of my place? Is something wrong with it?

Alistair racked his brain.

When he first started going to and from school after the new residents moved in, he hadn't paid much attention to the place.

Whoever lived there was fine by him as long as they didn't mess

with his life.

Most households in the neighborhood consisted of a married couple with one kid, but this one was different, with two women who, according to local gossip, were sisters taking care of a sick child who needed privacy to recover.

Ever since word got out that the kid had some illness-someone had started a rumor it was contagious-the other children stopped coming to Alistair's house, which was closest to theirs.noveldrama

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- 20 mint

He couldn't really blame people for jumping to conclusions, though. The two women barely left home and avoided talking to locals unless absolutely necessary. They always wore face masks coming and going, so nobody knew what they looked like. All that mystery made people's imaginations run wild.

Alistair, being naturally quiet, didn't mind the lack of visitors. The peace and quiet meant he could focus on his studies.

Truth be told, Alistair wasn't actually that into studying. He'd never been the model child others thought he was. It was Robert who always pushed him to hit the books, saying that getting smart was the only way he'd eventually be able to buy Robert good liquor.

Robert's only real pleasure in life was enjoying a few drinks now

and then.

Alistair had taken this to heart, always trying to grow up exactly the way Robert wanted him to.

After school, Alistair would grab his folding wooden table and set it up in the yard before sunset. He'd perch on his little stool to do homework while the light was still good.

Once finished, he'd spend time playing with Robert's dog.

Their yard wasn't huge, but Robert had created a small vegetable

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garden that provided nearly all the greens they needed.

That day, the dog was going crazy, barking at some random toad that had

appeared in the garden. Alistair went to check it out and, spotting the toad,

worried the overly curious pup might turn it into a chew toy. Being the good kid he was, he carefully picked up the toad.

There was a stream not far behind the house, and Alistair figured

he'd release the toad there.

But the moment he stepped back into the yard, something caught

his eye.

A single piece of paper lay in the vegetable garden.

Weird.

Robert wasn't like most older men-he was meticulous, kept everything inside and

out spotless. And Alistair definitely wasn't the littering type.

Maybe the wind blew it in?

But when he picked it up, his brow furrowed.

There was a line scrawled across it in uneven handwriting: [Don't you think it's

dirty?]

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Chapter 72 The Poor Child

The question hit him like a slap.

His first thought jumped straight to the toad he'd just been handling.

This note... it had to be aimed at him.

But from whom?

His imagination took off, half-laughing, half uneasy.

Was someone hiding in the mulberry tree? Messing with him?

He scanned the branches carefully.

Nothing. No one.

As he pulled his gaze away, confused, he caught a slight movement in the curtains of an upstairs window across from him.

Staring at the narrow gap between the drapes, Alistair froze for a second before it

clicked. It must be from those new neighbors who'd just moved in.

Probably not the adults, he figured. They wouldn't waste time on stuff like this.

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Chapter 72 The Poor Child

Which meant... It was that sick kid?

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Remembering the rumors about the child having some contagious disease, Alistair's hand trembled slightly as he held the paper.

He fought the urge to drop it immediately, aware the kid might still be watching from behind the window.

It wasn't the kid's fault they were sick. He didn't have to be overly sympathetic, but he didn't have to be a total jerk either.

Sticking to his original plan, Alistair crumpled the paper into a ball, but just before tossing it in the trash, a thought struck him. He dug out a small plastic bag, dropped the paper ball inside, and tied it with a tight knot.

That should keep any germs contained, right?

With that sorted, he rushed to wash his hands, lathering up with soap at least five times before he finally felt safe.

For several days, everything seemed fine, so Alistair just forgot about the whole thing.

He stuck to his routine, setting up a small desk in the yard after school to do his homework. Sometimes while writing, he'd et that feeling, like someone was watching him. Whenever that happened, he'd look up and stare right back without hesitation.

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Chapter 72 The Poor Child

It didn't really bother him though.

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Putting himself in the other person's shoes, Alistair figured being stuck at home day after day would drive anyone crazy. A day or two might be bearable, but any longer and people would either lose their minds or sink into depression.

Maybe he and Robert were the only people outside of the family that this person ever got to see!

Watching him, they probably envied his healthy body, his freedom

to sling a backpack over his shoulder and head to school each day, just living a normal life.

Poor kid, really.

It wouldn't kill him to let someone look at him for a bit. Alistair wasn't petty, so he just let it slide.

One boring afternoon, Alistair caught a glimpse of a silhouette in a second-floor window. It was small and painfully thin. Something about that frail figure tugged at

his heart, and he decided to try striking up a conversation.

Making a new friend wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

The more he thought about it, that contagious disease stuff had

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Chapter 72 The Poor Child

to be total bullshit.

If someone was really that sick, they'd be in a specialized hospital. This family clearly had enough money to buy a whole property just for the kid's recovery. They could definitely afford proper hospital

treatment.

Alistair looked up with a friendly smile and called out a greeting. That backfired spectacularly. Where there had been a shadowy figure visible through the translucent curtains just moments before, now there was nothing, just the silent swaying of the curtain as whoever it was disappeared.

Not being particularly chatty or outgoing himself, Alistair took the hint and shut his mouth.

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