Scars Of A Broken Bond

His camera lay in shards at his feet. He looked up at Tyrone, who had risen to his feet, the words died in his throat.

Expressionless, Tyrone retrieved a business card from his pocket, tossing it dismissively to the floor. “How much is it? Get in touch with my secretary.”

Larry swiftly joined him, a reassuring hand on Tyrone’s shoulder, gesturing for him to keep his cool. To the crowd of reporters, he said, “My grandfather has passed away. We’re in mourning and unable to give any interviews. We can talk after the funeral.”

Still, a few persistent reporters took their chances, snapping photos from a distance, then quickly disseminating the news.

“At ten o’clock on November 1st, the news broke that Cesar Blakely, the chairman of Blakely Group, passed away at Healthwell Hospital due to illness.”

The attached image showed Tyrone, a picture of grief, seated by the emergency room’s door, the background blurred out.

The related news delved into the life of Cesar Blakely.

have passed without causing much of

breaking news and candid interviews meant more people now knew of Tyrone, and more

were thoughtless, the majority of people expressed respect for Cesar, their virtual candles flickering

“Rest in peace.”

read, “Notice: This is Tyrone’s grandfather.

Sabrina felt a wave of unease, unable

setting her book

her screen time since her pregnancy, to protect her

was a notification, she wouldn’t bother

now, it pinged with a