Chapter 402: The Shrill Voice of Eleanor Fowler Echoed Through the Yard

"Mitchell! It's an emergency! If you don't help, our family is finished!" The shrill voice of Eleanor Fowler echoed through the yard before she even stepped through the gate.

Martha Fowler paused kneading dough in the kitchen. Her in-laws hadn't visited since their explosive argument three months ago.

"Mom, it's Grandma and Grandpa," her eldest daughter Emma said, setting down the kitchen knife and wiping her hands.

Martha sighed. "Nothing good ever follows that voice."

She knew exactly why they'd come. With that gambling addict Sean still living under their roof, trouble was inevitable. Thank God she'd cut ties when she did, or they'd be bankrupt by now.

"Let's go see what they want." Dusting flour from her hands, Martha led Emma into the courtyard.

Eleanor sat weeping on the stone bench while Walter stood sighing nearby. Spotting them, the old woman's eyes narrowed.

"Why's Emma here? A married daughter belongs with her husband's family! What will people say?"

Mitchell Fowler's face darkened. "Mom! My daughter stays as long as she pleases! State your business or leave. We've no patience for your nonsense today."

Eleanor's face turned purple with rage. Her obedient second son now dared defy her—for that worthless girl!

"How dare you! I'm your mother! Can't I discipline my own grandchild?" She slapped her thighs, ready to launch into one of her performances.

Walter urgently tugged her sleeve. They needed money today—starting a fight would ruin everything.

Martha watched coldly. These sudden visits always meant one thing: more trouble from good-for-nothing Sean. After being refused last time, what fresh scheme had they concocted?

"Grandma, Grandpa, let's talk inside," Emma offered, reaching to help Eleanor up. "The sun's too harsh out here."

The old woman shoved her away. "Keep your fake kindness!"

Mitchell immediately stepped between them. "That's enough, Mother! Leave now if you can't behave!"

Seeing the situation deteriorating, Walter blurted out, "Son, your brother—"

Before he could finish, frantic footsteps pounded through the gate. A bloodied man staggered in and collapsed at Mitchell's feet.

"Brother! Save me!"