Chapter 584: Epilogue (11)

Chapter 584: Chapter 573: Epilogue (11)

Mrs. Ellsworth frowned. “Why go to Zelkova again?”

“Last night…” he began, “something incredible happened.”

“What happened…?”

Ethan Ellsworth said, gesturing toward the living room, “Mom, come inside. I need to explain this to you.”

“Alright.”

The mother and son went into the living room, where Ethan Ellsworth recounted the events of the previous night in painstaking detail. By the time he finished, the color had drained from Mrs. Ellsworth’s face.

“Ellsworth, are you sure you saw it clearly? It was the middle of the night. You could have been mistaken.”

Ethan Ellsworth shook his head grimly. “I asked Chloe this morning if she was waving last night.”

“And what did she say?”

“She said no. She was very firm about it.”

“I find this whole thing very strange.”

“But I absolutely saw her last night. She was sitting on the edge of the balcony, waving. Mom, I hear there are a lot of unclean things in Zelkova, and that they have powerful witches there. I want to have one of them take a look at Chloe and perform a ritual. We can’t wait any longer. You told me last night that Chloe’s belly is abnormally large. I took a close look this morning, and you’re right. It’s really not normal.”

“Then we should go right away. I’ll go with you. We’ll have your father take soup to Zoe every day.” As she spoke, Mrs. Ellsworth handed the container of chicken soup to Mr. Ellsworth. “Honey, we have to be completely silent about this. Not a word to anyone. Ellsworth and I will take Chloe.”

“Alright.” Mr. Ellsworth agreed, taking the container. He then got up and left.

“Ellsworth, let’s hurry. We can’t delay. The more I think about it, the more unsettling it feels.”

The mother and son drove back to the luxury apartment complex.

After leaving Dorothy in Zeke Marshall’s care, the three of them boarded a private jet to Zelkova.

On the plane, Mrs. Ellsworth was a bundle of nerves. She held Chloe’s hand, her heart pounding with anxiety.

After a six-hour flight, they landed smoothly at the airport in Alveria, Zelkova.

Since their trip was a secret, the three of them wore sunglasses and face masks as they checked into a seven-star hotel in the city center.

Once at the hotel, Chloe Marshall and Mrs. Ellsworth waited in their room while Ethan Ellsworth went out by himself.

“Chloe, lie down here and let me see your belly,” Mrs. Ellsworth said.

Chloe Marshall nodded, slipping off her shoes and getting into bed. Mrs. Ellsworth propped two pillows behind her back for support.

Then, she lifted Chloe’s maternity top and sat on the edge of the bed, staring intently at the prominently swollen abdomen.

“Chloe, do you remember what you were like at four months when you were pregnant with Dorothy?”

“I remember. My belly was round, but not this big. And it was a very quiet pregnancy; I had very little morning sickness.”

“Everyone’s body is different. Some women have terrible morning sickness and can’t keep anything down, while others are like you were. But, Chloe… last time, I heard from Ellsworth that you two went to the hospital. What exactly did it feel like? Tell me.”

Chloe Marshall sat up straight. “It was a tearing pain.”

“In your stomach?”

“Yes,” Chloe Marshall nodded. “It felt like… someone was scraping me with a knife, little by little.”

“It seems that dream you had on the plane, on the way back from Quentin’s wedding… that was just the beginning. As soon as Ellsworth gets back, we’ll go find that witch and have her perform a ritual. Everything will be fine after that.”

Chloe Marshall nodded.

“Chloe, what would you like to eat? I’ll go to the restaurant and bring something up for you.”

“Let’s go together, Mom.”

Mrs. Ellsworth waved a dismissive hand. “You just stay here and rest. I can go by myself.”

“I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”

“Alright. I’ll go down and get us some food. I’ll see what they have.”

Chloe Marshall murmured her assent and lay back down. She placed her hands on her belly and whispered, “I hope you’re okay. Mommy wants you to be born safe and sound.”

A fist-sized lump suddenly protruded from her belly, starkly visible.

“That’s you moving, isn’t it?”

She gently rubbed the spot on her stomach, trying to comfort herself.

The first thing Zoe Ellsworth wanted to do when she woke up was see her baby.

“Herman, bring him over so I can have a look.”

Herman Hawthorne stood, lifted the baby, and placed him beside Zoe Ellsworth. “Here, take a look. He looks just like you.”

Zoe Ellsworth pouted. “It’s a good thing he looks like me. Don’t you get it? He’ll have an easy time finding a wife when he grows up…”

Herman Hawthorne pressed his lips together. “Actually, what I was going to say is… he’s really ugly.”

Zoe Ellsworth was even more indignant. “What do you mean ‘really ugly’? He’s just plain ugly, okay?”

Even Mrs. Hawthorne had to laugh. “You two certainly sound like a married couple.”

Herman Hawthorne burst out laughing. “See? You even admitted you’re ugly yourself. If he looks like you, doesn’t that mean you’re ugly?”

“That’s right. I wonder what blind man fell for someone as ugly as me.”

“…”

“Let me tell you, my brother’s newborn pictures were even uglier than this, and so were mine. But look at us now, a handsome man and a beautiful woman. What does that prove? It proves that newborns just haven’t grown into their features yet. They get better-looking once they do.”

Playing the part of the perfect, doting husband, Herman Hawthorne agreed. “That makes sense. Zoe, are you hungry? Your dad brought over chicken soup and fish soup this morning. Which would you like first?”

Mrs. Hawthorne quickly interjected, “Zoe, have you passed gas yet?”

Zoe Ellsworth looked confused. “What’s ‘passing gas’?”

Herman Hawthorne shielded his mouth with his hand and whispered, “It means farting.”

Zoe Ellsworth’s face actually turned red. “I… I don’t fart…”

A “PFFT!” sound followed right on the heels of her words, loud enough for both Herman and Mrs. Hawthorne to hear.

Zoe Ellsworth was so mortified she wanted to dive under the covers. ‘So embarrassing!’

Herman Hawthorne laughed. “Look at you. What’s the big deal about farting? Everybody farts, not just you.”

“That’s right, it’s perfectly normal,” Mrs. Hawthorne added. “The doctor said you can’t eat until after you’ve passed gas.”

“Well, you can eat now,” Herman said. “So, Zoe, which one first?”

“The fish soup, I guess?”

Herman Hawthorne stood up and handed the baby to his mother. He then opened one of the food containers and took out a bowl of still-steaming fish soup, its fragrant aroma filling the hospital room.

He raised Zoe Ellsworth’s hospital bed to a comfortable height before sitting on the edge. He picked up the bowl of soup, scooped up a spoonful, and tested the temperature. It was just right. Then, he began to feed her, one spoonful at a time.

“Is it good?”

Zoe Ellsworth nodded. “I knew it was my mom’s cooking the second I tasted it.”

“Then drink some more.” Herman Hawthorne watched her sip the soup. The memory of carrying her to the delivery room flashed through his mind, and his heart gave a painful lurch.

“When I think about you giving birth, I get scared.”

“What’s there to be scared of?”

“I was scared something would happen to you, of course. You were in there giving birth, and I was out here in agony. It was worse than death. Zoe, let’s just have this one child. I’m never putting you through that again.”

Zoe Ellsworth smiled. Looking at him, she suddenly understood the warmth of a long, steady life together—that gentle, enduring love. His simple, heartfelt words had touched the deepest part of her heart.

“Yes, just this one child is enough.” Mrs. Hawthorne chimed in. “I only had one son, Herman. Besides, Zoe, this one is a boy. If you don’t want to have any more in the future, then don’t.”