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Chapter 1835

Zea asked, "Then what about Cyril?" Randall had finally regained his composure and began to think more rationally about the situation. "It probably wasn't the work of some female ghosts or Manfred. He's locked up in the storage shed, hasn't eaten a single piece of bread, and is so weak from hunger that he couldn't have harmed Cyril. This was likely the work of someone. Someone must have hired them to break in." Zea nodded repeatedly, finding it reasonable. Randall continued, "We cannot let this matter become public." "But if we don't investigate further, won't that be unfair to Cyril? He's our only son," Zea said, her voice trembling as she thought of her son now rendered useless. Her anger flared. Her son had been reduced to a helpless state while that wretched woman's son still thrived. Randall sighed deeply. This was a heavy blow for him as well. "From now on, we'll tell everyone that Cyril is ill and needs to rest and recuperate." "Does that mean you won't let Cyril go out

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