Chapter 9 Meeting Kevin

• But in the next moment, Timothy rose on his own, brushed off his clothes, glanced around, and declared, "I've said what I needed to say. I'm going to see Grandpa Kevin now. Goodbye, Master Lavette!"
• This time, he addressed Robert not as 'Grandpa' but 'Master Lavette'—a formal, distant title.
• Without waiting for a response, Timothy turned and strode away, not giving Robert the satisfaction of a reaction.
• "You… you…" Robert stuttered, his anger evident as he pointed a shaking finger at Timothy's retreating form. He began coughing, overwhelmed by his emotions.
• "Dad, calm down… Getting angry over that heartless and ungrateful jerk isn't worth it…" Hector quickly intervened, patting Robert on the back to soothe him.
• The room buzzed with surprise at Timothy's bold defiance.
• As he exited the hall, the onlookers were left with varied reactions—sighs, mockery, indifference, and even pity, though the latter was a sentiment only Henry's family could muster.
• They could not fathom why such a promising young man like Timothy was ostracized by his own kin.
• Hector, Hubert, and the rest harbored their calculations, but the central question remained—why did Robert act this way? Were blood ties truly so insignificant compared to interests and power? Their family had faced tragedies: deaths of their own son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter, their grandson went to jail, and yet, these were merely brushed aside.
• As Timothy walked away, a mix of heartache and anger consumed him, paining him like a stabbing knife for his brother's family and his own helplessness.
• Yet by the time he reached Kevin's residence, Timothy's emotions had steadied; nothing else mattered now. He was greeted first by Kevin's secretary, Simon.
• "Mr. Grant!" Timothy greeted him with a smile.
• "Timothy, Old Mr. Lavette knows you're back, and he's waiting inside for you. He wanted to come out himself, but I convinced him to wait in his room," Simon informed him.
• Simon's gaze lingered on Timothy, laden with complexity. He knew how much Kevin cherished Timothy, and as Kevin's personal secretary, Simon had not only managed Kevin's daily affairs but had also spent years tracing Timothy's whereabouts.
• He had caught wind of the earlier incident in the hall. Even Simon, who thought he knew Timothy well, found himself puzzled by Kevin's son, Robert's actions. To Simon, Timothy stood out distinctly among the Lavette family members. He was also surprised by Timothy's unusual behavior today.
• Upon hearing about the hallway scene, Simon didn't imagine Timothy yielding; rather, he envisioned a formidable tiger lying in wait.
• A tiger, after all, was fearsome enough, but one that waited patiently for the opportune moment to pounce was truly daunting.
• "Mr. Grant, may I enter now?" Timothy's heart pounded, the nerves as intense as they were in his childhood.
• "Absolutely, go on in," Simon responded with a gentle smile, nodding to Timothy before stepping aside to give him space to reunite with Kevin.
• Timothy took a deep breath, adjusted his attire, and approached the wooden door with deliberate steps.
• After a brief pause, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. He was stunned upon entering.
• The room, spanning roughly thirty-four square meters, looked just as it had years ago, unchanged in its layout and decor.
• The only alteration was on the bookshelf; some of Kevin's books had been replaced by superhero figurines.
• These figures, nestled among ancient scrolls, struck a bizarre, almost discordant note in the room.
• A wave of emotion surged through Timothy, nearly bringing him to tears.
• He was aware that Kevin had been holding him in his thoughts over the years, evident from the collection of superhero figurines that had been Timothy's childhood treasures, now meticulously preserved.
• Kevin Lavette reclined in a worn armchair, an opera melody floating from the radio on the table—his chosen favorite.
• Yet, at that moment, Kevin's gaze was fixed on the ceiling, lost in thought so deep that Timothy's entrance went unnoticed.
• Setting down his canvas bag, Timothy took a moment to observe Kevin—silver hair, a network of wrinkles etching his face, his skin pallid, eyes clouded, his frame noticeably thinner.
• The sight struck Timothy; the elderly man had visibly aged, his energy diminished, the weight of his later years ever more apparent.
• "Grandpa Kevin… I've come to visit," he whispered, treading lightly to avoid startling him.
• "Timothy… Timothy…" At the sound of his name, Kevin seemed to snap out of his distant thoughts, slowly sitting up.
• "Grandpa Kevin, I'm right here!" Overwhelmed by a sudden sadness, Timothy rushed to his side to offer support.
• Kevin's face creased into a smile upon seeing Timothy. "You're back, truly back!"
• "Grandpa Kevin, I'm here. I'm sorry to have worried you…" Timothy's touch was gentle, patting Kevin's back cautiously, wary of over-exciting him.
• "It's all my fault, what happened to your family… I'm sorry…" Kevin began unexpectedly with an apology, his tone urgent as if fearing he might never get another chance to confess.
• Timothy was taken aback by the sudden apology, hastening to reassure him, "Grandpa Kevin, don't talk like that. Just focus on getting better, and leave the past behind."
• Deep down, Timothy understood that the events from four years ago still haunted Kevin, but he wished for him to let go of those burdens for the sake of his health.