From Sneers to Cheers: Anthea’s Ascent (Anthea ) novel Chapter 287

It turned out that the neighbor downstairs heard something amiss and called the cops.

Malcolm's suitcase hit the floor as a set of cold, metallic handcuffs snapped around his wrists.

When Gina heard that Malcolm had been locked up for murder, she wasn't exactly surprised.

Deep down, she had always known that Malcolm's path was leading nowhere good.

Lizzie went to see Malcolm, just once. After all, he was her father, and his days were numbered.

It was the right thing to do, to see him one last time.

Separated by a pane of glass, Lizzie saw Malcolm, haggard and aged beyond his years. Just a few days had passed, yet he seemed a different man.

"Dad."

"Lizzie," Malcolm managed a feeble smile, "Thanks for coming to see your old man."

He'd thought there had been a mix-up when the guard said he had a visitor.

But there she was, Lizzie, actually there.

"How are you holding up in here?" Lizzie asked.

Malcolm was bunked with death row inmates, the kind of people capable of anything.

The ordinary mind couldn't fathom the kind of hell that was.

If he could do it all over, Malcolm would never have betrayed Gina. He would've cherished his wife and daughter.

But it was too late for regrets.

He nodded, trying to sound upbeat, "I'm okay, pumpkin. You don't worry. Just take care of your mom, focus on your studies, get into a good college."

"Your mom's a saint. I messed up, big time. I wasn't a good husband, much less a good father."

"Lizzie, when it's your time to settle down, keep those eyes wide open. Don't end up with someone like me. Listen to your mom; she's got the years and the wisdom on you..."

"Lizzie, take good care of her, will ya?"

Unaware, Lizzie felt tears streaming down her face.

Once upon a time, she too had a happy family, a father who loved her...

Anthea chimed in flatly, "Uncle, the teacher responsible for your lessons messaged me yesterday. You haven't shown up to his online classes in three days."

Nanson was awkward and speechless.

Anthea continued, "You can't go on like this, Uncle. Learning French won't hurt you. Mom's going to outpace you by miles if you keep this up."

Nanson nodded, his face a mask of resolve, "Starting today, I'll buckle down on my French studies!"

Anthea handed Nanson a notebook, "Here, take this."

"What's this?" Nanson looked puzzled.

"It's a collection of French learning strategies I've compiled. Better a poor horse than no horse at all. Memorize these when you've got a moment. Mom will be quizzing you in a week."

Carole nodded in agreement.

Nanson sometimes needed supervision like a child. Otherwise, he'd never master French.

And the person Nanson feared most was Carole.

Grasping the notebook, Nanson grinned, "Just memorization? Piece of cake!"