After breakfast, Brent and Beverley finally went to see James. They didn’t go with a driver. Brent drove the car himself.
James’ condition was already better than the last time Beverley saw him. He couldn’t walk yet, but he could talk well. It made her feel happy.
Beverley squatted in front of her father’s wheelchair and smiled at him. “Dad, do you blame me for not catching up with you lately?”
James smiled and shook his head. His hand stroked the top of his only daughter’s head. “I’ve heard what you’ve been through. I’m sorry...,” he said sadly. “Please forgive Emma.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m just glad you’re on the mend. After all....” Beverley glanced at Brent, who was standing looking at them, then continued, “I don’t have much trouble at Brent’s house, anyway.”
James immediately loo
