When Love Becomes 291
Posted on March 12, 2025 · 1 mins read
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Chapter 271

Olive entered Elvis's room. She truly considered the old woman her grandmother, unlike Crystal, whose attentions were solely for Elvis's benefit. Seeing the old woman's inability to eat, coupled with her coughing and vomiting, Crystal had only felt disappointment, not sadness. Betty knew that if Olive were still alive, she would be heartbroken. The young woman had been gone for three months, but she lived on in everyone's hearts. Tears filled Mrs. Samantha's aged eyes. She sniffled and said, "It's so unfair to Olive. She was too young; her life had just begun… Most importantly, she died saving Elvis, but he's completely forgotten her. He has Crystal now, and perhaps other girls in the future…"

Mrs. Samantha cried, clutching her hand, her heart pounding. "Even so," she continued, "I still can't mention Olive to Elvis… Betty, do you know how much my heart hurts? I'm heartbroken, so sad…"

Betty Harris hugged the frail old woman. "I know, I know. Old lady, don't be so sad. Your body can't take it." Mrs. Samantha's face was tear-streaked. She felt responsible for Olive's death. The thought of Olive left her breathless. Betty held her tightly, her own eyes red. Sadness filled the room.

Then, a clear, soft voice cut through the air: "Is there anyone?" Mrs. Samantha, still sobbing, froze. Betty was stunned. The voice was so familiar. Was it… an illusion? Light footsteps sounded outside, followed by the clear voice: "Excuse me, is there anyone?" A slender hand gently pushed open the slightly ajar door. Someone entered.

Mrs. Samantha and Betty looked up. Olive Hart's slender figure filled the doorway. Olive was here! She had entered the unlocked villa and, hearing the crying, had rushed upstairs. Betty sprang from the bed, exclaiming, "Young lady… Young lady!" Mrs. Samantha's pupils constricted. "Olive… Hart? Is it… really… you?"

As soon as Olive saw them, her eyes reddened. She rushed to Mrs. Samantha, her eyes sparkling. "Grandma, why… are you so thin?" she asked, clasping the old woman's hands. "Grandma, you look so bad. You haven't been eating properly."

The old lady grasped Olive's hands—they were warm, not cold. She stammered, "Olive… am I dreaming? Are you really… back?"

"You're not dreaming. I'm not a ghost. I'm alive," Olive said, placing the old woman's hand on her face. "Look, Mrs. Samantha, I'm warm. I'm… back!"

"Oh my God!" Betty cried, rushing to embrace Olive. Tears streamed down her face. "Young lady, it's really you. Let me look… you're even more beautiful. I didn't recognize you at first!"

"Betty, you're still as sweet as ever," Olive said, wiping her tears. Then, looking at Mrs. Samantha, her voice trembling, she whispered, "Grandma, it's really me."

Mrs. Samantha touched Olive's arm, still disbelieving. She cried like a child, "Olive, it's really Olive! Tell Grandma, how did you survive? Were you hurt? Are you okay now?"

Mrs. Samantha examined Olive carefully. Olive hugged her grandmother, patting her back softly. "Grandma, don't blame yourself. It was my choice. I loved Elvis; I was willing to die for love, and live for love. I've been recovering for three months; the toxins are gone. I'm much better now, reborn from the ashes. I hope we'll all be fine—Elvis, you, me… we'll all be okay."

Mrs. Samantha hugged Olive, nodding vigorously. "Yes, Olive, we will be fine." Betty gently wiped her tears. She knew that with Olive's return, Mrs. Samantha would recover. Olive always had a way.

Once they calmed down, Olive took her grandmother's pulse, diagnosing her with a stress-induced illness. "Grandma," she said, "I'll give you an injection tonight. Stop the nutrient solution. Tomorrow, I'll make you a nutritious meal. This is easily cured, but you need to recover slowly. I'll stay to care for you."

Betty asked happily, "Miss, will the old lady really get better?"

"Hmm, within half a month, she'll be her old self again!" Olive smiled.

"Great!" Betty rejoiced. The old lady had finally seen the light.

"Olive," Mrs. Samantha said, taking Olive's hand, "What do you think of Elvis now?"

Olive thought a moment. "Grandma, how is Mr. Augustine?"

The old woman nodded. "He's fine now. No more episodes, no more sleeplessness. He's normal."

Olive's eyes softened. "That's good. Mr. Augustine and I are divorced, and he's forgotten me. I hope things remain as they are. What I want most is to recover my mother's second treasure box." She continued, "Grandma, Mr. Augustine and I are finished. When he recovers, I'll do my best. We'll be fine."

Mrs. Samantha nodded. "Okay, Olive. I respect your choice. It's late. Betty, take Olive to the next room."

Betty's eyes twitched. That was… the young master's room! The old lady had, seemingly casually, sent Olive to Elvis's room. The old lady had truly returned.


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