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The Kiss That Sparked it All Chapter 2727

Chapter 2727

“Mr. Tanner, with the rain pelting down like this, Regina will definitely catch a cold running out there by herself.”

Francis’s tone was stiff, “If she gets sick, it’s her own doing. Did I send her out into the storm?”

Sensing his resolve weakening, Emma quickly added, “Why not let me go with Miss Regina to look for it? That painting is like a cherished memory of better times for her. Sir, it’s no wonder she’s so frantic.”

With a heavy sigh, Francis waved a dismissive hand, and Emma hurried out into the downpour.

It was a lapse on their part, the staff, that they hadn’t noticed where the painting that had hung for over a decade had been discarded. They knew only that it had been taken down, but not where it had ended up. A real shame, indeed.

Worried to the core, Emma didn’t hesitate for a second before dashing into the rain.

In the end, Regina found her prized painting in a small storage shed next door, amid a pile of household odds and ends.

There it was, the once immaculate frame now carelessly tossed on the ground, gathering dust. It was as if only Regina cherished the memories of her family’s past.

Finally, the dam broke, and Regina began to sob.

“Mom, I miss you so much.”

Regina returned to the Tanner Mansion, a shell of her former self. Throughout it all, only Emma stood by her, not a single other family member in sight.

Emma, her eyes brimming with pity, dried Regina’s drenched hair.

“Miss Regina, what were you thinking? You’ve been out in the rain, and you’ve always been frail. You’re bound to be feverish by morning.”

Seeing Regina clutching the painting, her face a blend of tears and rain, not making at sound, completely shutting out the world, Emma’s own tears began to fall.

“If your mother were here, she wouldn’t let you end up in such a state, would she?”

Indeed, if her mother were still alive, how could she let Regina be treated so poorly?

Her longing for her mother was palpable, yet in the vastness of the Tanner Mansion, there seemed to be no room for such sentiments.

Regina had no choice; her defiance in her father’s eyes was nothing but a nuisance. She disrupted the peace of their home.

With great care, she took the painting she had struggled so hard to find back to her room.

Perhaps only there could it hang without disdain.

But Regina didn’t hang it up again. Instead, she hid it away in the deepest recesses of her closet. Painted on it was a warm family portrait of her with her parents-a time of such happiness. She resented the man Francis had become, unworthy of the painting’s past joys.

She couldn’t bear to display it any longer.

Maybe Imogen was right; their family of three had become a thing of the past, and Regina was the only one lingering, unwilling to awaken.

Whether it was her mother, forever left behind, or her father, who had long since stepped away, it was clear: Regina shouldn’t dwell on the past any longer.

Her jaw clenched, she glared at a spot on the wall, determined to make Imogen pay. her choices.

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With fury coursing through her veins, Regina stormed towards Imogen’s room, Emma, trailing behind, tried to catch up and restrain her, “Regina, you’re not a child anymore, and you can’t be this impulsive. What if your father sees you and blames you again?”

“Emma, why am I his own flesh and blood, yet he treats me like this?”

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