GoodReadOn the other end of the line, Byte 7 watched helplessly as his screen initiated the system's self-destruct sequence, ticking up from 1% to 2%.
Each increment represented a night's worth of his hard work.
"It's over," Everett said, his voice detached, as chilly as a winter breeze.
"Wait a second.” Byte 7 shouted desperately. "I'll give it to you, just stop." Satisfied with the response, Everett pressed the pause button on his own computer.
Byte 7 thought he was the king of the cyber world, but he was about to learn a tough lesson — there's always a bigger fish.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt"Everett, can you tell me how you managed to track down my server?" "You want to mentor my son, Langston. That requires my approval." "The laptop | gave Langston might have been compromised by your virus, but at the end of the day, it's my laptop.” And his son, Langston, was ultimately his own.
After hanging up, Everett opened his computer's main screen.
Byte 7 sent over a video file shortly after.
Just from the blurred figure on the thumbnail, Everett didn't need to watch the video to know the content.
Heather hadn't lied.
She, and indeed they, were all involved.
Everett closed his eyes and sat in silence for a long while before slowly opening them again.
Byte 7 sent another message. [The fairness Dorothy asks for isn't unreasonable. You can't do what you want to do just because the culprit is your mother.] He raised his hand and lightly tapped the keyboard.
[My family, my business. Not yours.] Everett's fingers hesitated over the keyboard for a moment before a pop-up window appeared on the screen.
[Are you sure you want to permanently delete this file?] He looked down and without a moment's hesitation, clicked confirm.
"Mummy! Langston took me to the backyard to play this morning and accidentally made me fall. He didn't even say sorry." Abigail complained, her cute demeanor belying her stubborn nature.
Sometimes Dorothy wondered if her daughter took after Everett or herself.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm"You said it was an accident." "So he just needs to apologize, and I'll forgive him. But if he doesn't, I'll stay mad." Dorothy sighed and glanced at Langston, who was still engrossed in his computer.
"Did you hear that?" "She's the one who wanted to run. She didn't tell you that when she fell, she dragged me down with her." Langston set aside his laptop and showed his knee to his mom. "See, now you know why | didn't apologize.” Dorothy frowned and pulled Abigail to her side.
"Abigail, you can't abuse your favoritism to wrong others. Understand?" "But | apologized to Langston right away. He's the one who didn't say sorry." Abigail's big eyes blinked back tears, her face the picture of innocence.
"Girls always making a fuss," Langston scoffed as he stood up and approached her. "Sorry, okay? Are we good now?" Immediately, Abigail nodded, her tears turning to laughter. "I forgive you, Langston.” Dorothy truly understood the meaning of ‘a judge at home faces the hardest cases.’ Suddenly, the laptop Langston had left on the couch went dark.
Instinctively, he dashed back to hit the restore keys, but it was no use.
"Mummy, where's Daddy? | need him to look at this." "Daddy's in a meeting, very busy. You can't disturb him." "But my laptop's broken." Langston clutched her hand, about to plead further.
That was when Dorothy's phone rang.
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