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Chapter 284 - 284: 132: Oh my God! It’s Miss Song! 2



Upon hearing this, Elena Williams breathed a sigh of relief.

“So what does Viola actually look like?” Elena continued to ask.

Penny Kalafatis laughed and said, “She must be very beautiful! Our Thompson genes are so good; how could Viola be any different?”

Elena nodded, “You’re right. I’m really looking forward to it.”

The two sisters-in-law chatted back and forth.

Sylvia Thompson stood outside, frowning slightly.

Absorbed?

What was there for Elena to anticipate?

Wasn’t she a member of the Thompson Clan too?

Just wait.

The more they now anticipated Viola, the more disappointed they would be later on.

She had investigated Viola Thompson.

A village girl born and raised in the countryside.

She didn’t know anything.

She didn’t have the slightest connection to the qualities of the Thompson Family.

Thinking of this, Sylvia’s lips curled into a smirk.

“What are you doing standing there?”

Suddenly, a voice emerged from the air.

This sudden voice startled Sylvia, and as she turned to look, she saw that it was the eldest son of Jayden Thompson and Penny Kalafatis.

Myron Thompson.

Myron was in the rebellious stage of his adolescence, and his temper was a bit weird. He usually enjoyed playing basketball, and even when visiting the hospital, he would bring a basketball with him.

She remembered when she first met Myron. He was so arrogant that he didn’t even want to acknowledge her.

However, with Sylvia’s efforts, Myron’s attitude towards her had improved a lot.

However, he still refused to call Sylvia his sister.

Usually, he would use “hey, hi” instead of calling her sister.

“Myron is here!”

Sylvia smiled as she turned around.

Myron had just finished playing basketball, and there was a thin layer of sweat on his forehead, “Why aren’t you going in?”

“l just arrived.” Sylvia did not feel embarrassed at all, “Come on, Myron, let’s go in together.”

Without thinking too much, Myron followed Sylvia’s footsteps. The two of them pushed the door and walked inside together.

“Mom.”

Myron walked over to Penny Kalafatis.

Then he politely greeted Elena, “Aunt.”

Elena smiled and nodded, “So well-behaved.’

As soon as she finished speaking, Elena continued, “Myron, you’re seventeen this year, right?”

“I’m eighteen!” Myron corrected.

Elena was taken aback and exclaimed, “Are you really eighteen this year, Myron?”

Penny said helplessly, “Elena, don’t bother with him. He is confused.”

Adolescent boys are like that, always fantasizing about growing up and becoming independent.

Myron was a prime example.

Sylvia brought the thermos over and said, “Aunt Elena, Aunt Penny, it’s almost time for dinner.’

“Thank you, Sylvia.” Elena said.

Sylvia acted as if she was sensible, “It’s all my duty.”

Penny walked over, picked up a bowl, and scooped some porridge, “Elena, you and Sylvia go ahead and eat. I’ll feed mom.”

Mrs. Thompson couldn’t eat anything too hard for now, so her daily staple food was yam milk porridge.

Sylvia took the bowl from Penny’s hand and said with a smile, “Aunt Penny, let me do it. You and Aunt Elena go ahead and eat. By the way, Myron, have you eaten yet? I brought some extra food today.”

“I already ate.” Myron replied.

As he finished speaking, Myron headed to the bathroom holding his basketball.

Myron had already eaten.

However, Sylvia had been traveling back and forth between the hospital and home every day, exhausted beyond belief.

This contrasting behavior was evident between them.

Anyone with discerning eyes could see that the Thompson Clan’s biological grandson could not compare to their adopted granddaughter.

Sylvia glanced at Myron and subtly smirked.

Penny, with her limited education and provincial upbringing, could not care enough to teach her son filial piety- it was quite normal.

People like Myron, if they hadn’t been born into the Thompson family, might not even be able to pass high school.

Sylvia carefully fed Mrs. Thompson the porridge.

At this moment, Myron came out of the bathroom and went to Sylvia’s side,

“I’ll feed grandma, you go eat.”

He had just carefully washed his hands and left the ball in the bathroom.

Sylvia smiled and said, “No need, I can do it.”

How could someone like Myron, who acted like a young master, do any menial tasks like feeding a patient?

Elena chimed in, “It’s rare for Myron to have such a thoughtful intent. Sylvia, let him do it. Come and eat with us.’

“Alright,” Sylvia nodded, handed Myron the bowl, and advised, “Grandma is having some difficulty swallowing right now, so don’t feed her too quickly.” Just wait.

With Myron’s arrogant temper, he would probably not be able to handle feeding more than two spoonfuls before the bowl away in frustration and leaving.

Eventually..


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