Chapter 22
Sherman was already thirty; how many more years could he afford to waste?
Adah nodded in agreement. “Give us a name, and Karen and I will be right there to play. matchmaker! We won’t have a single word of protest!”
Sherman countered with a question of his own, “Mom, Grandma, do you think the meaning of life is to get married, have kids, and then have those kids do the same, cycling on until we reach the end?”
What was the purpose of such a predictable life?
Instead of believing in love, it was better to believe in oneself.
At the very least, he could build his business empire.
Sherman was accustomed to standing on top, controlling everything below.
A man’s life wasn’t defined by marriage and having children.
Karen choked and then continued. “Sherman, if you don’t want to get someone yourself, I will find someone for you! Before I die, I must see you settled with a wife and children, or I’ll never rest in peace.”
Sherman frowned slightly.
Seeing Sherman’s displeasure, Karen immediately clutched her chest. “I can’t breathe! It’s so suffocating! I can’t take it…”
Adah rushed over, supporting Karen with one hand and helping her catch her breath with the other. “Karen, Karen! What’s wrong? Are you okay? Don’t scare me!”
Then, turning to Sherman, Adah said, “Look what you’ve done to your grandma! Karen, don’t be upset. Rest assured. Sherman is a sensible boy, and he’ll listen to you. I’ll help you upstairs to rest now.”
Together, they didn’t give Sherman a chance to argue.
Meanwhile, Anthea handed the prescription to the store owner at the pharmacy.
After taking a look, the pharmacist asked, “This prescription is for anemia and malaria, isn’t it?” “Yes,” Anthea nodded.
The pharmacist mulled it over, then asked, “Could I trouble you for the contact information of the doctor who made this?”
The pharmacist thought the prescription was from a seasoned doctor. The handwriting alone was full of character.
Chapter 22
Anthea smiled gently. “I wrote the prescription.”
The pharmacist chuckled. “No kidding, young lady. The medical knowledge are profound and take decades to master. You look no more than seventeen or eighteen.”
“The youth today sure know how to spin tales,” the pharmacist thought.
Standing aside, Carole spoke up. “Sir, I’m the sick one here. She is my daughter. She did write this prescription.”
“Really?” The pharmacist squinted inquisitively.
“It’s true!” Carole nodded earnestly.
The pharmacist hesitated, then said, “Well then, young lady, could you leave your contact with
us?”
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