Fortunate to Have You This Lifetime

Chapter 791: Chapter 791 Funeral_1

Purple Summers looked at his resistant demeanor and didn’t feel it was appropriate to press further, but she couldn’t help wondering, could it be that when Alexander was young, he had been bullied by Second Young Master Summers?

When she first married into the Summers Family, Clyde was already in prison, so she had no understanding of this Second Young Master of the Summers family at all.

She couldn’t help but speculate about what Second Young Master Summers might feel when he gets out of prison and sees the completely changed Summers Family.

Purple Summers’ thoughts ran wild like untamed horses, and Alexander, holding her, folded her into his arms and rubbed her gently.

“Stop overthinking, and sleep,” he said.

Snuggled in his embrace, Purple Summers found a comfortable position and closed her eyes.

They didn’t sleep for long, as at five in the morning, they received a call from the hospital: Dylan Summers had not made it through the night and was declared dead after unsuccessful resuscitation.

With the New Year’s approaching, what should have been joyous and unifying times turned into funeral preparations for the Summers family.

Atra Blanc, together with the housekeeper, took charge of the funeral arrangements, while Purple Summers was not idle either, helping Laura Summers to set up the mourning hall. What incense to light, what flowers to arrange—they were young girls with no experience and clumsily busied themselves with the unfamiliar tasks as they learned.

Alexander made calls to relatives and friends of the family, notifying them to attend the funeral.

After everyone arrived and Nathaniel’s absence was noted, they asked, “Where’s the third young master?”

“It was to save the third brother that the eldest brother got into the accident. Third brother has been in a state of shock, locking himself in his room these past few days, barely eating,” Alexander explained with a dignified air.

The explanation passed muster—just about.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated on ṅοѵǤᴑ.сο

However, at a time when helping hands were needed and the younger brother was absent, it inevitably made him seem weak, as if he were avoiding reality.

As a bunch of relatives moved into the Summers’ household, turning it upside down with logistical needs of clothing, food, and lodging, the kitchen fire was nearly burning 24 hours straight.

Atra Blanc clenched her teeth and moved out of the small western-style house, settling into the villa at the front to better look after the guests.

The house was lively, yet it lacked the atmosphere of a funeral.

Because nobody was crying.

Even Dylan’s daughter Laura Summers couldn’t shed a single tear.

It wasn’t that Dylan was unloving, but his affection bore calculations tainted with ulterior motives.

When Laura fell into madness, he saw her as worthless, and despite his affection, refused to invest a hint of further care.

At the death of her father, Laura did feel sorrow, but the feeling was not enough to make her cry bitterly.

“Stay strong and accept this change,” relatives patted Laura’s shoulder firmly, as if to transfer their strength to her for resilience.

Lost in thought, Laura wondered: If Yolanda were here, could she have cried?

Dylan Summers’ body laid in the mourning hall for three days.

On the day of the funeral, Alexander went upstairs to knock on Nathaniel’s door.

During the funeral, someone needed to hold the portrait of the deceased, and this task was usually performed by filial sons and grandsons.

Laden with deep loathing and resentment, Nathaniel retorted, “Did you come here just to mock me?”

Knowing he could very well be Dylan’s son, yet still asking him to do such a thing, he felt that Alexander was deliberately humiliating him.

Alexander coldly stated, “If not you, should it be me? He only had two daughters—one lying in the hospital unable to move, the other with a fractured hand that can’t hold anything. Someone from the family has to do this.”

In the end, Nathaniel went, because he knew if he didn’t, Alexander might just randomly assign a servant to carry Dylan’s portrait. Alexander was certainly capable of such an act.

On the day of the funeral, Nathaniel was pale, his lips pressed tightly together, showing no emotion from beginning to end.

Purple Summers thought of his situation and couldn’t help feeling melancholic.

Alexander, on the other hand, was in a good mood. The more Nathaniel was impacted by the blow, the less he would be able to scheme against Purple Summers.