Three days later, it was ti for Jesse to be discharged from the hospital.
During these days, Justin Holden never ca, but Director Thorne ca to visit four tis a day.
Jean Ellison packed up their things, watching the nurse remove Jesse’s IV drip. She sat on the sofa, clutching her phone, its screen illuminated.
She hesitated over whether to call Justin Holden.
Her hand moved faster than her mind; by the ti she realized it, the familiar ringtone was ringing.
She hurriedly hung up, but it was too late.
"Hello, who is this?"
It was a woman speaking—a very pleasant voice.
"Is Lawyer Holden available?"
With a knife to her throat, hanging up would just make her more suspicious.
"Lawyer Holden is in the shower. It’s 9 PM in New York. If it’s work-related, I can have him call you back later."
New York ti?
He’s on a business trip.
Showering in a hotel at 9 PM, why is there a woman in the room?
Sounds like one of Justin Holden’s female colleagues.
"No need."
Jean hung up, but she had her suspicions.
A man like Justin Holden never lacks female company. He looks like an old-ti Hong Kong film star—a type of handso that’s rare compared to modern beauty standards.
Maybe he was telling the truth when he said he was just passing by the hospital on the day of Jesse’s surgery.
He was supposedly there to visit his teacher, Professor Zachary Thorne, who, being older, was bound to suffer from so age-related ailnts.
That’s what Justin Holden told her.
"Mommy, where’s Uncle Holden?"
Jesse, holding a plush toy and wearing a pink child’s hospital gown, sat on the bed, blinking her big eyes and speaking in a sweet voice.
Jean didn’t expect that, when it was ti for discharge, the person Jesse most wanted to see was Justin Holden, not Simon Sterling.
Even though Simon had invested more ti and effort into the child.
He longed to have a closer relationship with Jesse.
But Jean wasn’t too surprised; she knew so things are rooted deeper than blood.
"Uncle Holden’s been very busy lately. He’ll co to see you in a little while."
Jean walked to the bedside, smoothing Jesse’s hair, a slight smile gracing her lips.
Jesse was montarily entranced; her mother’s smile was as lovely as a fairytale princess.
But the corners of her mother’s eyes always drooped as if she had worries on her mind.
Though only four years old, she was like a little adult, perceptive and observant.
"It doesn’t matter if Uncle Holden doesn’t co, as long as I have Mommy."
Jean’s eyes grew moist; she bit her lip, forcing her tears back down.
Leaving the hospital, she didn’t inform Simon Sterling, choosing instead to leave alone with Jesse, pulling a suitcase to the address sent by the agent.
Downstairs.
She happened to see an acquaintance, Professor Zachary Thorne, Justin Holden’s teacher.
They had t in court.
Professor Thorne was about to get into a car when he noticed the mother and daughter stepping out of a taxi.
He signaled to his assistant, and the car door closed again.
He approached Jean and Jesse, eyebrows raised in a smile, seemingly unbothered by his recent court defeat.
"Congratulations, Miss Ellison."
Jean instinctively pulled Jesse closer to her side. Justin Holden was duplicitous, and his teacher wasn’t soone to trust either.
The two had joined forces to send her to prison for five years; how could she show Zachary Thorne a friendly face?
"Hmm."
She only responded simply.
"I wanted to congratulate you in person, but as it happens, I had to return to the States that afternoon."
He lived in the United States and wouldn’t stay long this ti.
"You weren’t sick?" Jean asked, surprised. "Lawyer Holden said you were in the hospital recently, and he went to visit you."
Zachary Thorne smiled kindly, saying, "Is that so? He really tells you everything. I’m getting old and sotis go to the hospital for a check-up; nothing major."
He had been in the United States for the past few days, just flew in that morning.
Justin Holden must have said it because, as a teacher, he had to give his student so face.
"Reporter Ellison lives nearby too; it seems the judge’s decision was right."
His words were laced with aning, and Jean’s brow furrowed.
Could she have been too biased, viewing people through tinted lenses? Even in defeat, Professor Thorne was laughing as if genuinely congratulating her.
He was so advanced in age, at the pinnacle of his field. To be defeated by his student, did it really feel alright?
He should be indignant, or cold, if not like this.
"I didn’t live here before; it’s a newly rented place, just about to move in."
Jean’s tone was flat.
She looked upstairs at the adjacent building, a genuinely affluent district. Her gaze was fixed on a spot that Zachary Thorne followed, squinting slightly.
That spot, wasn’t it...
The smile on his face grew deeper; losing a lawsuit was inconsequential to him.
Justin Holden being able to let go of Claire Caldwell and fall for another woman was what truly mattered to him.
At the very least, it ant the rift between him and his student was slowly healing.
Justin Holden couldn’t hold a grudge forever. People die and can’t co back. He had heard that the Caldwell family girl had passed away, and Justin had to move on from his grief.
"Alright, go on up."
"We might et again soday."
Jean held Jesse’s hand, hastening up the stairs, moving quickly.
She didn’t want to see Zachary Thorne again; no one wants to encounter lawyers without a good reason.
Moreover, Zachary had t her two or three tis five years ago. He knew Claire Caldwell; she shouldn’t et him often.
Jesse remained silent, sensing her mother’s dislike for that grandpa.
Whoever her mother liked, she would speak to and be close to.
The door had a code lock; she entered the code sent by the agent.
Opening the door, a huge floor-to-ceiling window greeted her. The entire decor featured only black, white, and gray. There was no TV in the living room, just a wall of books that reached four to five ters high.
The air conditioning wasn’t on, yet it felt chilly.
"Mommy, I don’t like it here."
Jesse tugged at Jean’s clothes, looking up at her earnestly.
For the first ti, she expressed her desires to her mother. She liked their previous ho, where the old fridge had cartoon stickers on it.
Jean also felt this place was dull and even oppressive for a child.
Spotless, without a single strand of hair to be seen.
"Jesse, we’ll stay here for now,"
"Maybe we can change the curtains; we have your favorite bunny curtain in the suitcase."
"But we’ll have to ask the landlord first."
Hearing this, a light sparked in Jesse’s eyes, and she nodded obediently.
Jean took out her phone, typing a few lines on the screen.
She could only contact the agent; she still didn’t have the landlord’s contact information.
Soon, the agent sent her a screenshot of a chat.
In the dialogue box, the landlord had sent a short ssage, "Do whatever you want."
Jean pursed her lips, finding the landlord peculiar, surprisingly accommodating.
After sending the screenshot, the agent added another ssage.
"The landlord will be flying to Kingswell this evening."
Jean’s grip on her phone tightened, a sense of trepidation sweeping over her.
She reassured herself it was just a shared accommodation, nothing significant.
The person living in such a place ought to have a certain level of integrity, surely they wouldn’t harm her or Jesse.
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