Scum Daddy Dreams Of Stealing My Mommy!
Chapter 363 Christopher Hart’s Responsibility

Chapter 363: Chapter 363 Christopher Hart’s Responsibility

"What are you all standing around for? Pull them apart quickly!"

At Christopher’s command, Fuller and the others finally snapped out of their daze and rushed forward.

Initially, Amelia endured a few slaps without retaliating or defending herself, thinking it was better to let Emma take out her anger. After all, her daughter had passed away.

But the ferocity in Emma’s blows wasn’t just to vent—it seemed like she was trying to beat Amelia to death to avenge her daughter!

There’s a limit to anyone’s patience. Amelia slowly began to fight back, but Emma had her hair in a tight grip, making it impossible to break free.

Fortunately, Fuller and another bodyguard stepped in, forcibly pulling Emma away.

Amelia was finally free.

She didn’t care about her disheveled, pitiful state or the piercing pain all over her face and head. Sharply, she shouted, "Don’t you understand by now? She ended up like this because of you! You’re the real executioners!"

"She made mistake after mistake, and no one ever told her she was wrong! No one ever made her face the consequences of her actions! That’s why today, she was willing to risk everything—even her life—to frame me! Because she knew how much you indulged her! She knew you’d go along with her wishes and punish me no matter what! It’s you who ruined her. The people you should hate the most are yourselves!"

These words had been bottled up inside Amelia for a long time.

She had thought that distancing herself from this family meant she didn’t need to comment on how they raised their daughter.

But now, being dragged into this mess again, she had no choice but to speak her mind.

Emma, already drowning in grief, became hysterical upon hearing Amelia’s words. "What do you know?! If Hope had grown up in your home, with you watching her suffer incessantly from birth, I don’t believe you’d have the heart to criticize her! To discipline her! You heartless, venomous woman... My daughter is dead, dead, and yet you still slander her..."

Before she could finish, Emma collapsed, unable to make another sound, her body going limp.

Fuller panicked. "Madam! Madam!"

George, holding his daughter’s body, saw his wife faint and was suddenly torn between what to do. The scene became utter chaos...

Upstairs, in one of the rooms.

Aunt Harper was holding the three children tightly. Although they stayed upstairs and didn’t come out, the terrifying commotion downstairs was entirely audible.

Hope was so scared she wanted to cry, but Aunt Harper held her and comforted her continuously.

Noah, hearing his grandmother’s voice targeting his mother, grew anxious and tried to rush downstairs, but Aunt Harper quickly pulled him back. "Master Noah, be good. Your mom told me you mustn’t go out, absolutely mustn’t. Listen, okay?"

Aunt Harper knew Wendy had died—right downstairs.

The children could definitely not witness such a scene.

Her heart trembled uncontrollably, her eyes already blurred with tears. Choking back sobs, she tried to soothe the three children, her arms gripping them tightly, not letting them leave.

The children broke into crying fits, both frightened and worried about their mother...

Christopher heard the children’s cries and instinctively looked upstairs, then remembered they were here.

The scene in front of him was absolutely unsuitable for them to see.

So, even though his heart felt like it was shattering into a million pieces, he forced himself to stay calm and regain his composure swiftly.

"Fuller... arrange for Madam to be sent home to rest, and call the family doctor to watch over her. Then contact the funeral home to start preparing for the service..."

After giving his instructions, his eyes landed on Amelia, who stood off to the side, her presence barely noticeable, and he spoke gently, "Amelia, later... take the kids and leave here. Stay at a hotel or... perhaps lodge with Snow for a few days."

He reckoned that with Wendy’s death in this house, it would surely leave a psychological scar.

The best solution was to leave as soon as possible, to avoid triggering painful memories.

Amelia nodded absentmindedly in agreement, but her throat felt tight and sore, her voice swallowed back into silence.

The unconscious Emma was carried into a car and sent back to the Hart family’s old estate.

Christopher initially thought of asking his father to accompany his mother back, but seeing George still sitting on the floor, holding Wendy’s body, he opened his mouth but ultimately said nothing.

As they waited for the funeral home staff to arrive, the atmosphere in the living room grew unbearably heavy, broken only by the occasional sobbing of the children from upstairs.

Christopher wanted to go upstairs to check on them but hesitated when he glanced down at the bloodstains covering him. He abandoned the idea and instead asked Amelia, "Amelia... please go upstairs and stay with the children. When we leave, you can take them with you."

Amelia sat motionless on the couch, her head lifting slightly as her lifeless, dim eyes met his gaze.

The frail, despondent look on her face stabbed at Christopher’s heart with renewed intensity.

Being with him had truly wronged her.

Christopher shot Sister Jones a look, and she immediately understood and stepped forward to take Amelia’s arm. Quietly, she coaxed, "Miss Norton, let’s go upstairs. The kids need you."

Amelia took a slow breath, her eyes lingering on Christopher for a moment. Their gazes locked briefly before she turned and went upstairs.

Downstairs, the living room was left with only the bodyguards, Christopher, George, and Wendy’s remains.

Christopher steadied himself, seating himself back in the wheelchair with the help of a bodyguard, then turned to his father and began speaking, "Dad, what happened today... has nothing to do with Amelia. This morning I spoke with Wendy on the phone. She said she wanted to meet with Amelia and the kids. I told her to pick a time and go to Imperial Garden..."

"I didn’t realize she was intentionally misleading me. I suspect she had already planned to confront Amelia today. The moment Amelia saw her, she immediately called me. I was aware of everything that happened. So please, don’t blame the innocent."

George, who had been sitting motionless as though petrified while holding his daughter’s body, suddenly turned his bloodshot eyes toward Christopher, his face twisted with rage. "At a time like this, you aren’t grieving over the loss of your sister—yet you’re still defending that woman?!"

Christopher’s expression was grave as he replied, one word at a time, "They are two separate matters. I’m heartbroken over my sister’s death as her brother, but I can’t comprehend or forgive the fact that, before passing, she still sought to harm Amelia."

"You bastard!" George roared, enraged. "What are you trying to say? Are you planning to vilify your sister even after her death?!"

"That’s not what I mean. Discussing her mistakes now is pointless. But those of us who are still alive shouldn’t continue down the same path of error."

"You—" George was so furious his teeth ground audibly, but before he could start cursing, Fuller cut in abruptly, "Uh... the funeral home’s car is here!"

George, sitting upright ever so slightly, let out a heavy breath. "Let them in. We’ll go together."

"Yes, sir."

The funeral home workers entered and began following protocol: documenting the death and preparing the body for transport.

George followed his daughter’s body into the funeral home van, and Christopher trailed behind. Before leaving, he glanced upstairs, then pulled out his phone to call Snow Fitch.

In the coming days, he knew he’d be overwhelmed and unable to look after Amelia and the children.

Snow’s presence would offer them some solace, giving him peace of mind.