“Watch out for Neville.
He's a selfish man and is all about the cash.
The Pierce crew's in for a rough ride...”
“Zip it!”
But before Wyatt could finish, a voice, aged but commanding, cut through.
“Enough, Wyatt! Shut your trap!”
Though frail, her voice carried weight.
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Both Neville and Miley spun around simultaneously.
Bertha, who'd been out cold, had her eyes open now, somehow.
“Grandma, you are awake!”
Neville dashed over to her bedside, a mix of relief and worry on his face.
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Grabbing her hand, he fretted, asking, “How are you feeling? Do you feel any discomfort?”
Bertha weakly shook her head, managing to reply, “I'm good.
Sorry for the scare.
“I'm ringing the doctor right now.
Neville’s hands shook as he reached for the call button, buzzing with excitement.
Spotting Bertha awake, Wyatt's expression soured.
“Old woman, you are so lucky!” he scoffed, turning to leave.
“Hold up!”
Bertha’s voice stopped Wyatt in his tracks.
As Bertha made to rise, Neville gently restrained her, urging, “Grandma, chill out.
You just woke up.
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You shouldn't let yourself get angry.
After reassuring her grandson, Bertha cast Wyatt a steely gaze and warned, “Own up, or face the music!”
Wyatt smirked, shooting back, “You all talk tough but where's the proof, huh? Sueif you got the guts!”
Confident he'd covered his tracks, Wyatt swaggered, oozing arrogance.
“You'd best rest up, Mrs.
Pierce.
One more faint, who knows if you'll wake again.
“You jerk!”
Neville was ready to charge.