I wanted to stay far away from Dad and Chelsea, and I was surprised that he suddenly mentioned me.
Looking at my father's serious expression as he explained, I instinctively covered my chest.
I didn't feel stuffy or painful.
That made sense. I was already dead.
Arnold couldn't help but comfort him, "Don't say that. Rosa always claims she's here to study, but everyone knows she's here to see you. Who do you think clean your office? It's always so spotless. And I've seen her refill your regular meds all the time..."
My father sneered, "She's considerate? It's Chelsea's birthday today, and she didn't even call. Instead, she made more than twenty phone calls yesterday when transferring the house. She doesn't care about any family affection at all. She only cares about money. Why should I give a damn about such a heartless person?
"As for my meds, if it wasn't for her, how did I get sick from overwork?"
I couldn't help but smile bitterly. My body probably started to stink before Chelsea celebrated her birthday.
How was I supposed to call?
Besides, he shouldn't blame me for him falling sick. These days, I had been relying on myself.