Scum Daddy Dreams Of Stealing My Mommy!
Chapter 296 Christopher Hart, Thank You

Chapter 296: Chapter 296 Christopher Hart, Thank You

Dawn had just arrived when Benny Palmer’s phone rang—the charter flight was settled.

Christopher Hart had almost stayed awake all night, and upon hearing the news, he immediately prepared to leave.

However, the children were still asleep, so after a moment’s thought, he went to the children’s room and woke his eldest son.

"Noah, Dad is going to pick up Mom and bring her home. You’ll be staying here with Dad for a few days, and Aunt Harper will take care of you and your siblings."

The child had just woken up, still groggy, but upon hearing his father’s words, he instantly became alert.

However, the clever Noah’s first response wasn’t to answer his dad but to wave his hand in front of him and stare wide-eyed in surprise, "Dad! Are your eyes better? Can you see me now?"

Christopher Hart gave a faint smile and held his eldest son’s small hand, "Yes, Dad’s eyes are better, and I can see you now. Noah, you look a lot like Dad, very handsome."

"That’s great!" He turned around to wake his brother but was stopped by Christopher Hart, "Let your brother sleep for now, Dad has to go, we’ll be back."

It was then that Noah became curious and puzzled, "Dad, why do you need to pick up Mom? Did something happen to her?"

"Um... Mom is sick, feeling unwell, and Dad is worried, so I’m going to pick her up."

Christopher Hart didn’t want his son to know about the airplane disaster, so he came up with an excuse.

"What? Mom is sick?" Upon hearing this, the little guy’s brow furrowed, and he felt extremely distressed, "Is Mom very sick? I want to go see her too."

"It’s too far, and Dad has mobility issues. If I bring you along, I’d have to take care of you and wouldn’t be able to take good care of Mom. You stay home, take good care of your brother and sister, we’ll be back soon."

"Okay then... but when you see Mom, send us a video, anytime, you must send it."

Knowing his eldest son was a worrier, Christopher Hart nodded in promise, "Okay, I’ll send you a video when I see Mom."

Fuller stayed to ensure the children’s safety; Benny Palmer brought a few others along with Lucas King and Snow Fitch, making a group of eight heading to the airport.

On the way, Imperial Garden called.

Christopher Hart thought it was something about the kids, but upon answering, he heard from Aunt Harper, "Sir, the hospital just called. Mr. Hart says Mrs. Hart woke up and wants to see you; he wants you to visit the hospital today."

His mother woke up?

Christopher Hart frowned slightly, "Understood."

After hanging up, he glanced at the time on his phone, frowning deeply—it was too late...

"What’s wrong?" Benny Palmer asked.

"My mom woke up and wants to see me now at the hospital."

Benny Palmer said, "Should we wait for the plane?"

"No need. Let’s go to the airport."

He knew why his mother wanted to see him—it was definitely to pressure him to reclaim his inheritance.

But now, whether he got the inheritance back was secondary.

What he could not accept was his parents’ attitude towards Amelia.

Snow Fitch, thinking about the Hart Family’s attitude, felt helpless and said, "Even if you don’t go, you should call to explain and calm them down. Otherwise, the more strained your relationship with your family becomes, the more they’ll despise Amelia, seeing her as a Fox Spirit who has led away their good son."

Benny Palmer nodded in agreement, "That’s true, you should make a call; they are, after all, your parents."

Regardless of their faults, biological parents can’t be changed, and as their son, he must fulfill his duties of filial piety.

Looking displeased, Christopher Hart reluctantly dialed the number.

"Mom’s awake; she wants you to come over." The call was answered by George Hart.

Since the father and son had parted on bad terms a few days ago, with George Hart even hurling harsh words, the tone now was very harsh.

Christopher Hart, sensing his father’s unresolved anger and unsure of what to say—apologies and soft words were not his style—paused, then asked in a low voice, "How is Mom? Did the doctors say when she can be discharged?"

"If you care, why don’t you come and see?"

"I... am currently physically impaired."

"Weren’t you here the other night?"

...

Seeing his son silent, George Hart seemed to understand something, his attitude becoming even more displeased, "It seems, in your eyes, we as parents don’t hold much weight anymore!"

"Dad, we’re all family, why say things like this..." Christopher Hart was extremely frustrated; he didn’t understand when his parents had become so stubborn, completely unable to communicate.

They say all parents hope for is their children’s happiness.

Yet why were his parents so unwilling to let him be happy and content?

"Today... I really can’t make it. I’ll visit Mom in a couple of days. Then, you can scold me however you want."

"You’re busy today? What are you doing?"

"I have something to take care of."

"You can go out, but can’t come to the hospital to see your mom? Is there anything more important than your own mother?"

Christopher Hart didn’t want to explain, knowing it would not make a difference; they would be angry regardless.

"It seems it’s that woman’s issue again! Isn’t she abroad? What, after conning all your property, she ran off? Now you’re anxious? Going to find her?"

Seeing his father misunderstand again, Christopher Hart had to clarify, "She didn’t, Amelia isn’t like that, and everything was my choice, not her conning me."

"I think you’ve been thoroughly brainwashed!"

"Enough, no matter how much I explain, it’s useless. She was abroad, and her plane crashed. I have to hurry over; I’m on my way to the airport now, and I really can’t go to the hospital today. Take good care of Mom, let her not be so upset, see the bigger picture."

Having said what needed to be said, Christopher Hart didn’t wait for a reply and dropped the phone, hanging up.

George Hart wasn’t angered by his son’s hanging up first, but was shocked by the news of the plane crash.

In the hospital, Emma Carter looked at her husband, her face hopeful yet furious, "What did that bastard say? Refuses to come?"

"He said the woman’s flight back to the country crashed... I did see an international news report about a crashed flight abroad—are the coincidences that precise? Was it really her flight?" George Hart thought back to the headline-grabbing international news, quite astonished.

Emma Carter’s expression changed slightly, "Really? Was it completely destroyed? Aren’t plane crashes usually horrific? Could that Fox Spirit have..."

Emma Carter didn’t finish her sentence, but her thoughts were already racing.

If Amelia Garcia died in the crash, wouldn’t all their troubles and annoyances be resolved?

No more Fox Spirit to charm her son.

Their two grandsons could rightfully acknowledge their heritage.

And that enormous fortune, could it be recovered?

"It seems... even the heavens couldn’t stand her deeds, they’ve taken her!"

————

The airline had arranged hotel accommodations for the survivors, but Amelia Garcia couldn’t rest easy, staying at the hospital with Shaw.

In the middle of the night, Shaw finally received medical treatment.

Her leg was severely fractured, and the attending doctor recommended hospitalization and surgery.

However, most medical resources were then allocated to treat those with more severe injuries, and there was no staff available to operate on Shaw.

They prescribed some painkillers and told them to keep waiting.

Although Amelia now had the means, she was helpless in the unfamiliar environment of Dubai.

She stayed by Shaw’s bedside all night, hardly sleeping.

For one thing, she was worried about Shaw, and sitting in the chair was uncomfortable.

Additionally, the trauma of the plane crash lingered; every time she closed her eyes, she felt as if she were still in the air, shaking and about to fall.

The airline and the authorities had brought in several psychologists immediately to provide psychological guidance to those who had experienced the crash.

But there were many family members of the victims, many of whom had already arrived, and their psychological wounds were deeper, so the psychologists prioritized them for counseling.

After a difficult night, dawn finally arrived.

Looking at the sunlight outside, the fearful gloom in her heart gradually dissipated, making her feel somewhat better.

Shaw awoke and saw her sitting there, blankly, and gently called out, "Sis, did you not sleep all night?"

"You’re awake..." Amelia snapped back to reality and looked at Shaw, a slight smile appearing on her face, "How do you feel? Does your leg still hurt?"

Shaw looked at her leg; she didn’t know if it was the effect of the painkillers or if she was just numb from the pain, but she felt nothing.

Yet, when she lifted the blanket, her lower right leg was already swollen and deformed.

Amelia was startled, "Why has it become like this? Is it a hematoma?"

With no phone, she couldn’t even look it up online, but she knew from common sense that if a fracture wasn’t repositioned promptly, the bones and blood vessels would definitely become twisted, causing major problems over time.

"No, I’ll go find a doctor. You must have surgery today; if we delay any longer, this leg might..."

She suddenly stood up, the room went dark before her eyes, and she felt unbearable pain in her waist, stumbling a bit, almost falling over.

"Sis! What’s wrong?" Shaw saw her stagger and lean against the wall, quickly asking.

With one hand on her waist, Amelia took a moment to clear her head.

"It’s nothing, I’ve just been sitting for too long, my legs are numb."

She went out to find a doctor, but despite the chaos of the night, the situation had not improved.

After much difficulty, she managed to pull aside a temporarily free doctor and nurse, explained the situation, and forcefully brought a doctor to assess Shaw’s injury, only to be told that they still had to wait, with the earliest possibility for surgery being the next day.

She wanted to transfer hospitals, but upon inquiring, she found that all the ambulances were busy transporting patients with more severe injuries to higher-level hospitals.

"Sis, I’m okay, I can bear it a little longer. Don’t busy yourself, just wait for their arrangement."

"No, we can’t delay with your leg. I’ll go ask around some more, see if I can contact the embassy, they definitely will have a solution. Even if transferring hospitals costs a lot, we need to get your surgery done as soon as possible."

Amelia went out again to ask around.

As she passed through the hallway, she saw the live news on the television, realizing for the first time just how devastating the crash had been, and just how lucky she and Shaw had been.

They had been aboard a Boeing 747, a large commercial transport aircraft, carrying a large number of passengers, with a total of 359 people including the crew.

The accident claimed the lives of 63 people on the spot, and more than 150 others were severely injured, among which more than ten died despite attempts to save them, leaving many others still in critical condition.

Shaw said they must have saved the Milky Way in their past lives, surely not just that.

They must have saved the entire universe.

Had their seats not been conveniently located near the aisle and close to the emergency exit, they might not have been able to escape and be rescued immediately after the accident; they probably wouldn’t be here now, breathing this air.

Later in the news, images of the plane crash appeared; she instinctively turned away her gaze, not daring to look any longer.

It had been twenty hours since the incident occurred, and though food had been delivered last night, neither she nor Shaw could eat.

Now, feeling extremely hungry and with a terribly dry throat, she found a restroom to hastily freshen up her face, then upon coming out, she saw a familiar Asian face.

It was the embassy staff!

She was overjoyed and quickly approached.

After making contact, the middle-aged diplomat heard her name and his face lit up with joy, "You’re Clarke Norton? You are Clarke Norton?! We have finally found you!"

Amelia Garcia was utterly confused and didn’t understand what was going on yet, when an embassy staff member beside the ambassador explained, "We received news from home that a compatriot was on this flight, who survived but was injured and needed medical treatment. We rushed to search for them, but the injured were too many, scattered across different hospitals, and we’ve been searching for a long time. We thought you weren’t at this hospital and were just about to leave. Fortunately, fortunately, we didn’t miss you."

Seeing her fellow countryman, Amelia also felt relieved and relaxed, her eyes momentarily reddening as she quickly said, "Mr. Ambassador, my friend is injured and needs surgery, but the doctors here are overwhelmed and nobody is available to operate. Can you think of any way to help?"

"Let’s go and see your friend first."

They hurried to the ward, and during the walk, the ambassador took out his phone to make a call. After a few words of negotiation, he handed the phone to her, "Miss Norton, your family wants to talk to you."

Family?

Amelia was stunned, wondering what family she still had?

With the phone to her ear, she hadn’t even spoken when a familiar voice came through, "Amelia, is that you? We finally have news from you. Don’t worry, we are already on our way and will arrive in about four hours. Don’t be scared, and if you have any issues, just inform the embassy staff; they will help you sort things out."

It was Christopher Hart.

His voice was excited yet stable, deep and gentle, permeating through the phone and straight into the depths of her soul.

Amelia was stunned by what she heard, forgetting to respond for a moment as it all seemed like a dream.

"Amelia, Amelia?"

The voice in her ear grew louder, snapping her back to reality. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse and barely recognizable, "Christopher Hart... thank you..."

Other than expressions of gratitude, she didn’t know what else to say.

"Silly girl, why are you thanking me? Alright, I’m still on the airplane. This is a satellite phone, so I won’t talk much now. I’ll explain more when I arrive."

He was on an airplane...

This was a satellite phone.

Meaning, he hadn’t yet arrived but had already contacted the local embassy staff through all possible connections, looking for her specifically to ensure her safety and help alleviate her difficulties.

Her nose suddenly felt sour, and her throat seemed to be blocked, making breathing difficult.

But it wasn’t sorrow or pain she felt.

On the contrary, it was a warm current swirling around her heart, a solid sense of security rising within.

After hanging up, still airborne, Christopher Hart’s brow furrowed, but his heart felt considerably relieved.

Benny Palmer handed him a painkiller and a cup of water, his tone filled with helpless yet slightly indulgent tease, "You know what... in this life, you’re really caught by Amelia Garcia! If you can’t win her back after this, you’d definitely die with regrets."

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