Andrea gazed at Mr. Singers before accepting the comic books from his outstretched hands. As she thumbed through them, her eyes welled up with tears.
Memories flooded back from her childhood when her mom couldn't afford to buy a copy for her, and the taunts of her classmates still echoed in her mind.
With tear-filled eyes, she looked up at Mr. Singers and whispered, "Thank you."
Mr. Singers let out a sigh, realizing that his guess earlier wasn't wrong. If he could turn back time, he would never have left his wife and child.
Gently, he reached out and brushed away the tears streaming down Andrea's cheeks, murmuring, "There's no need to cry."
Andrea nodded, her gratitude evident in her eyes. "I'll go fetch us some dinner," he said softly.
With a nod from Andrea, Mr. Singers rose from where he sat, swiftly exiting the ward and the hospital building. Stepping into the sprawling garden at the rear of the hospital, he retrieved a photograph from his pocket.
The image captured a radiant smile on a woman's face.
"I'm sorry, Rebecca. I wish I had the courage to stay and protect you and our child. You've suffered so much..." Mr. Singer's eyes were bloodshot, his voice trembling as he took a deep breath. "I'll make sure she's happy now. Wherever you are, I hope you're happy too."
After speaking, Mr. Singer gazed at the photograph for a long moment before carefully placing it back in his breast pocket. He turned and headed back into the hospital, making his way towards Andrea's ward.
Mr. Gibson and a few other men unexpectedly crossed paths with Mr. Singers. They were accompanied by their granddaughter and daughters, notably Anne, whose expression betrayed her reluctance to be there. Despite her reluctance, the Gibsons had been experiencing a series of unfortunate events. Their once thriving business had been plagued by misfortune. Their sea shipments were being targeted by pirates, two of their vessels had encountered technical difficulties, and several of their supermarkets had been destroyed by fires across the country.
Despite their efforts to uncover the culprits responsible for these incidents, the truth remained elusive. The situation seemed dire, with no clear path to resolution.
"Mr. Singers, we have come to offer our sincerest apologies," Mr. Gibson spoke in a subdued tone. As the eldest among them, he reluctantly assumed the role of spokesperson, as none of the others were willing to step forward and take charge.
Mr. Singers responded with a smile, "I wasn't the one they offended, but my wife. If she is willing, she will let you all off."
His pleasant demeanour would lead one to believe that he was not the mastermind behind the miseries they were enduring. If Mr. Gibson didn't know him well, he would assume that everything was going smoothly.
"When can we see your wife, Mr. Singers?" inquired Mr. Gibson, his tone tinged with anxiety.
"We are just about to have dinner, and the doctor has cautioned me against allowing her to be disturbed or anxious. None of you can see her for now," Mr. Singers replied.
Mr. Gibson's expression hardened; each passing minute without obtaining forgiveness meant the potential loss of one of his supermarkets and his businesses.
A sudden sheen of cold sweat enveloped him. Indeed, Mr. Singers lived up to his reputation as the noble devil - a man who could smile at you while quietly orchestrating your downfall without revealing a hint of his true intentions.
Mr. Singers didn't wait for another word before turning and exiting the hospital. Regardless of the number of times he was called, he didn't glance back.
Upon returning with dinner he made for himself and Andrea, he found Mr. Gibson and the others gathered outside Andrea's ward, uncertain whether to enter or depart, seemingly immobilized.
Mr. Gibson's eyes widened in astonishment when he spotted Mr. Singers holding the meal bags, while the other men and even Anne reacted with audible gasps and furrowed brows.
Known for his cold-hearted and unromantic reputation, Mr. Singers was perceived as thickheaded and inept at caring for a lady. How did his act of carrying meal bags for a woman align with this description?
Disregarding the astonishment on their faces, Mr. Singers proceeded into the ward and served lunch.
"Mr. Singers, are there people lingering by the ward door?" Andrea asked softly, discerning the persistent voices and footsteps that had persisted for three hours.
"Yes, they came seeking forgiveness. But let's have dinner first," responded Mr. Singers casually, giving no indication that he was referring to the titans of the business world in Sunshine City.
Andrea's expression betrayed her worry, even as she shared a meal with Mr. Singers. Her thoughts were with the people waiting outside.
"Mr. Singers, may we go and speak with them?" Andrea inquired tentatively, seeking his guidance before making a decision.
Looking at her with a gentle gaze, Mr. Singers asked softly, "If I let them in, would that be alright with you?"
Andrea nodded in agreement. Mr. Singers then cleared away their dinner plates and made his way to the door. Opening it, he surveyed the faces of Mr. Gibson and his companions.
"You may enter now," Mr. Singers announced.
Mr. Gibson and the other men breathed a collective sigh of relief. They had just received troubling news that one of Mr. Gibson's supermarkets had been raided by the police after drugs were found on the premises, and the others had also received similarly distressing updates.
Eager to make amends, they all immediately dropped to their knees before Andrea, with the exception of Anne, who stood defiantly, showing no intention of kneeling before her.
Anne's face was twisted with contempt and disdain as she looked at Andrea.
"Mr. Gibson, you are quite bold," Mr. Singers remarked in a chilling tone upon noticing Anne's refusal to kneel.
Almost fainting in horror at the sound of his name from Mr. Singers' lips, Mr. Gibson shot a fiery glare at Anne.
Sensing the gravity of the situation from her grandfather's terrifying expression, Anne reluctantly relented and knelt alongside the others.
"We apologize, Andrea. As a gesture of our sincerity, I would like to offer you two percent of the shares in the Hi-Fi company, making you a board member," one of the kneeling men stepped forward and presented a document.