The old woman opened the door with a trash bag in her hand.
When she opened the door, she was instantly greeted by three burly men standing by the door.
"You…" She dropped the trash bag and let out a gasp.
"Hello, Grandma. We are here to look for Irene." The leader among them immediately smiled what he thought to be a kind, pleasant smile.
The old woman looked at the three men giving her fake smiles. She was in shock.
However, she soon guessed who they were working for.
One on hand, she blamed herself. She should not have called Avery of her own volition. On the other hand, she was glad that Madam could predict the future and had sensed danger ahead, preventing another tragedy from happening.
"Oh… Who are you all?" The old lady quickly calmed down once she understood the situation. "How do you know Irene?"
"Grandma, we were sent here by Mr. Foster. We mean you no ill harm. We only want to confirm if Irene is Mr. Foster's daughter," the leader said politely.
The old woman laughed as if she had heard a great joke. "Irene's parents are people from my village. How could she be your boss's daughter? What Mr. Foster? Irene's father's last name is not Foster!"
The three men's expressions instantly changed.
"Could you all be mistaken? Also, Irene is sick. I was just about to buy her medicine. Why don't you all…" She wanted them to leave.
However, how could they leave without seeing Ivy?
"What sickness does she have? Does she need to be taken to the hospital? We have a car. We could send her to the hospital."
"No need, no need. She only has a fever. She can just take some medicine." The old woman was afraid that they did not believe her, so she turned around and pushed the door open. She entered the room. "Come in and have a look! Irene is really having a fever…"
"Grandma, we're just following orders," the bodyguard said while looking at the girl in bed.
The girl looked pretty, but she did not look like either Elliot or Avery.
After examining her for a while, the bodyguard felt that the girl did not look like Elliot or Avery at all.
"Do you think she looks like Avery or Mr. Foster?" the bodyguard secretly whispered to the other two.
They shook their heads. "I don't think she looks like them, but I have a bad eye for this. I might not be accurate."
"I don't think she looks like them either, but it doesn't matter what I say. What if she is really Mr. Foster's daughter?" the other bodyguard said.
If one could see whose child was whose, why would we still need DNA tests?
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