Melanie Grant listened and was instantly furious.
"Curtis Prescott is your uncle by blood! How could he just stand by and watch you being thrown into the snow without caring?"
"Does he have any conscience? Any humanity at all?"
"Maybe... he really didn't know."
Vivian Sinclair spoke softly, her tone gentle yet slightly distant.
"Elara Joyce answered the phone that day. I don't know what she said. He might truly not have heard about it."
Moreover, there weren't many connections between her and him to begin with.
Though blood ties were there, emotionally, there was never any real dependence.
Melanie Grant grabbed her wrist, her fingertips cold.
"Then why didn't you call me! I live not far from you, just half an hour by car!"
"My phone was out of power."
Vivian Sinclair explained softly, her gaze dim.
"It was too cold that day, my fingers were frozen stiff, I couldn't even press the power button, let alone open the contacts."
