Reborn as Mr.CEO's Fat Wife-Chapter 571: The Postcard Left by Abigail’s Mom

Brandon Piers never expected Jeffrey Foster to be so despicable.

He had actually installed surveillance early on in the box Abigail brought to Old Mr. Smith. He had suspected Abigail back then, hadn’t he?

All that followed was just to confirm his suspicions.

"Damn it!" Brandon muttered a curse under his breath.

After checking all of Abigail’s belongings again to make sure no surveillance was installed, Brandon’s expression slightly eased.

However, what remained didn’t help him much.

Brandon even went through Abigail’s study notes; they were all about her studies, with not a single trace of personal emotion.

Feeling somewhat discouraged, he picked up the last photo album.

He had seen it earlier. It was a record of Abigail’s life from childhood, but there were very few photos in it. Unlike other girls, she wasn’t fond of taking pictures. Most of the photos were graduation or award ceremony pictures, and he had been reluctant to flip through it in detail earlier, planning to save it for last to look at slowly.

Now he picked it up and carefully opened it after caressing it a few times in his palm.

The first photo was of her at ten months old, the same age as Teddy, but she looked two or three months younger, like a little kitten, with a dot of red on her forehead. Very cute.

Then one-year-old, two years... Gradually growing into a beautiful little girl.

When he turned to the seven-year-old picture, Brandon was stunned. He had always thought the memory of their first meeting he recalled that night was just a figment of his longing. But looking at the girl in the photo, he realized it wasn’t.

Those memories were real. At seven, she looked just as he remembered, a small, frail figure, sitting in front of the camera, looking a bit nervous but with an innate pride that was unforgettable.

Then there were even fewer photos. Ages ten to thirteen or fourteen were completely absent. Brandon guessed that she had been skipping grades at that time, so she didn’t have the chance to graduate before moving on to another school. By the age of fifteen, Abigail had already grown into a graceful young woman.

She looked nothing like the Abigail of today. One could even see the confusion in her eyes back then, which suddenly tugged at Brandon’s heart.

So his Abigail had had a period of teenage bewilderment too.

Reaching out to gently touch that somewhat unfamiliar little face, he murmured softly, "If I had been by your side earlier..."

Just as he spoke halfway, Brandon’s hand suddenly stopped. The next moment, he pulled out the photo of fifteen-year-old Abigail and saw the postcard underneath.

Brandon looked curiously at the scenic card. Why hide such a thing under the photo?

Carelessly? Absentmindedly?

Brandon immediately shook his head. He pulled out the postcard. It was an old piece with a strong sense of age, depicting a scene that didn’t seem domestic but more European, with a distinct British style. Flipping it over, there were only four words: "Peace and joy."

He remembered seeing Old Mr. Smith’s handwriting before and Abigail’s earlier notes. It wasn’t theirs, and at that time, Abigail shouldn’t have known Jeffrey Foster.

So, whose handwriting was this?

With that thought, Brandon had a bold guess in mind. He immediately called Grandpa Smith.

Hearing Brandon’s words, Old Mr. Smith was stunned. "That should be Abigail’s mother’s." Then he muttered to himself, "How did it end up with Abigail? I thought it was lost."

"Do you know where the place on the postcard is?" Brandon asked, thinking about Abigail’s graduation trip to Y Nation. Was she looking for her mother or tracing her mother’s steps?

Old Mr. Smith let out a sigh. "It’s Y Nation. Abigail’s mother gave birth to her there. The postcard should also be from Y Nation, though I thought she didn’t know."

Brandon understood. "Grandpa Smith, my main focus this time is Y Nation. If all goes well, I should be able to bring Abigail back. Please don’t worry."

"Hmm, you be careful too, and take good care of Teddy." Old Mr. Smith advised before hanging up the phone in exhaustion.

Brandon didn’t mention the surveillance in the box. He guessed Jeffrey had finally confirmed Abigail’s identity from Old Mr. Smith and only then planned everything that followed.

Holding the postcard, Brandon took a deep look. "Abigail, this time, I will find you."

After finishing the photo album, Pullan walked in. "Second Young Master, we found out the surveillance terminal was Dean Foster’s, which has been deactivated."

"Hmm, I already knew." Brandon had expected this result.

Finishing his words, he looked at Abigail’s final photo in the album. It was her graduation photo from Yale. In it, she looked youthful and radiant, slender and aloof, seeming younger than her peers and the most brilliant.

Looking at her like this, Brandon couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride.

After a long while, he closed the album. After scanning the postcard, he sent it to Romeo. "Identify the location as soon as possible."

A prompt response came from the other side: "Got it."

After handling this, Kelvin Max called.

"Second Young Master, as you suspected, one of the three people had a problem." Kelvin’s voice was a bit excited. They had been searching for Madam for so long and finally had a clue.

"Speak." Brandon sat up straight instantly.

"According to your instructions, we monitored the three people. One of the lawyer’s assistants sent a trial video ten minutes ago. From the screenshot, the main target was Hearst Foster, and it captured you as well. Although the recipient terminal was deliberately disguised, our men traced it to Y Nation."

"As expected." Brandon muttered, almost certain that Abigail was in some city in Y Nation.

After hanging up the phone, Brandon displayed a slightly relaxed expression for the first time in three months. Since he was sure Abigail was in Y Nation, he wouldn’t stop until he found her, even if it meant turning Y Nation upside down.

Glancing at the time, Brandon stood up and put away all of Abigail’s old things, then walked toward the nursery.

It was already 8:00 p.m. Little Teddy had just finished his milk and wasn’t sleepy yet. In Aunt Claudia’s arms, he kept bouncing up and down. Adam Piers, holding a burp cloth, was playing with him. Adam would cover him with the cloth, Teddy would take it off himself and bounce a couple of times, Adam would cover him again, Teddy would grab it with his little chubby hands and take it off again, laughing gleefully each time. Their game repeated endlessly.

Watching this, Brandon sighed inwardly. What a simple, happy little thing.

At that moment, Aunt Claudia, who was smiling, noticed Brandon first and immediately pointed him out to Teddy. "Teddy, call Daddy."

The joyful little guy immediately turned to look at Brandon and then laughed at him.

Aunt Claudia laughed too. "I didn’t ask you to laugh, call Daddy, Daddy."

"Da da da da da... hee hee..." The little guy, extremely happy, repeated a string of "da da da" before giggling again.

Brandon rarely laughed but he did this time. Afterward, he felt a bit worried. He was about to go search for Abigail, and he wondered if the little guy could adjust...