Natalie Morgan’s finger swiped gently across the screen. Despite her reluctance, she held the QR code out to Theodore Grant.
A million transferred into her account in the blink of an eye.
The entire process took no more than three seconds.
Theodore Grant put his phone away, satisfied, that sa breezy, untroubled smile still on his face.
He raised his hand to unlock the car and made a welcoming gesture. "Well then, I’ll be here on ti tomorrow to pick you up, Miss Childs. Have a pleasant day."
In the three years since she’d left Riverden, she had gained her freedom, but she had also lost the chance to visit Thomas Morgan.
It had indeed been a long ti since she had seen Thomas.
She wanted to see him, to see how his treatnt was progressing.
Theodore Grant had laid a trap, and she had walked right into it.
「The next morning.」
Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains, dappling Natalie Morgan’s face.
She had dressed with care, deliberately choosing a pair of black-rimd glasses to wear.
The glasses were like a shield. With them on, even the most beautiful person would appear dull and unremarkable.
Even a familiar face would beco strange, making it difficult to confirm their identity.
Sitting in Theodore Grant’s car, she stared straight ahead, her eyes fixed on the road.
Theodore Grant, lazy and relaxed, turned his head to look at her.
After a mont, he asked, "Feeling nervous, Miss Childs?"
She glanced back at him coolly. "I just didn’t sleep well. What is there to be nervous about?"
"To be honest, I didn’t sleep very well either." The man’s long fingers gently kneaded the spot between his eyebrows. "I had an unbelievable dream. It was as if my late wife had co back from the dead."
His searing gaze was fixed intently on her profile.
Natalie Morgan suddenly let out a small laugh. "I’ve never heard of anyone coming back from the dead. Is it possible that you miss Mrs. Grant too much, Mr. Grant?"
"Miss her?" He chuckled, thinking the word was particularly accurate. "You’re right. She’s been gone for three years, and I’ve thought of her for three years. I often wonder... if I had been a little kinder to her, would she have left so decisively? If I had agreed to the divorce back then and let her go, would she be like you now, Miss Childs, having found so old man and had his child?"
"Mr. Grant." Natalie Morgan never expected Theodore Grant would investigate her. Her eyes flew wide. "We’re complete strangers. Why would you investigate ?"
"My apologies." He spread his hands, his cool eyes nonchalantly fixed on the furious woman before him. "I didn’t realize you were so sensitive about people knowing your past, Miss Childs."
"Whatever my past is, it’s my private business. No matter how powerful you are, Mr. Grant, you shouldn’t get your kicks by digging into other people’s personal lives, should you?"
Her eyes were filled with a bone-deep chill.
He could even see a flicker of hatred in them.
He raised his hands in surrender, an enigmatic smile still playing on his lips. "I’m not amusing myself with your private life. What’s so amusing about it? Or could it be that you think your own past is a joke, Miss Childs?"
"You..." Natalie Morgan’s expression froze over. She turned her head away coldly. "...Driver, please pull over. I’m not going anymore."
The man’s voice, tinged with a teasing sort of regret, ca from behind a smirk. "What a sha. My friend will be so disappointed today. I even told him that a woman who looks very much like his sister was coming to paint his portrait. He even changed into new clothes, all ready to cooperate with you."
Natalie Morgan slowly, woodenly, turned her face back toward the man...
...who was smiling with a kind of taunting amusent.
’He’s like a madman.’
’A demon who builds his happiness on the suffering of others.’
"It’s fine. If you feel I’ve offended you, Miss Childs, you can get out of the car right now." The man raised his eyebrows, his tone implying he wouldn’t force her to stay.
Natalie Morgan averted her gaze.
She clenched her jaw tightly.
"You’ve already paid, Mr. Grant. I have no reason not to go." She took a deep breath, calming her anger. "You’re right. Parts of my past are indeed a joke. But thankfully, what’s past is past. I won’t make the sa mistakes again."
"Everyone has a past. There’s no need to feel so insecure, Miss Childs," he said unhurriedly.
Natalie Morgan: ...
’He certainly has a way with words, calling this insecurity.’
The car drove on.
It pulled up to the entrance of an unfamiliar hospital.
Serena Sutton had told her that not long after her ’death’, Theodore Grant had brought Thomas Morgan back from abroad, acting as his guardian, and admitted him to this hospital.
She’d heard it was the best hospital in the country for treating psychiatric patients.
Natalie Morgan felt a surge of nervousness.
After the car parked, Theodore Grant and Weller Kendall got out, one after the other.
She sat alone in the car for a while.
Then, she slowly gathered her supplies and got out.
"Miss Childs, see? The environnt at this hospital isn’t bad, is it?" Theodore Grant said, his hands in his pockets as he glanced down at her. "It’s just that my friend here is very ill, so his recovery is a bit slow."
Natalie Morgan said nothing.
She just carried her supplies and walked inside.
Her heart was heavy, her emotions a tangled ss.
She was eager to see Thomas, yet afraid to see him, and even more afraid that he might recognize her.
The hospital director received them personally.
Natalie Morgan was shown to a clean, spacious room.
She skillfully set up her easel, her heart pounding with anxiety.
After waiting for about half an hour, Thomas Morgan finally entered the room, accompanied by a nurse.
At first glance, he looked well.
He wasn’t so thin anymore; he’d put on so weight.
She forced a bittersweet smile, but in her heart, she was happy for him.
"Thomas, a pretty lady is here to paint your portrait today. You have to be a good boy, okay?" The nurse handed him the small teddy bear she was holding. "Mr. Grant said that if you cooperate, he’ll take you to catch fireflies."
"Fireflies?" Thomas Morgan clapped his hands happily, like a three-year-old child. "Want! Brother, take catch... shiny... buggies."
"Such a good boy." The nurse soothed him, pushing his wheelchair to face Natalie Morgan. "You sit here and let the lady paint your portrait. It’ll be over soon."
After settling Thomas in, the nurse finally spoke to Natalie Morgan. "Miss Childs, he’s a patient. Please try to be as quick as you can when you’re painting."
"Understood."
Perhaps it was her emotions getting the better of her, but as Natalie Morgan painted, tears began to fall.
In truth, she didn’t even need to look at Thomas to be able to paint him.
Seeing him in person, however, made her hands tremble.
Suddenly, a large hand covered her small, cool, trembling one. "Don’t be nervous, Miss Childs. He’s harmless."
As if shocked, Natalie Morgan snatched her hand back.
’I’ve lost my composure.’
’This shouldn’t be happening.’
"I might not have eaten this morning. It’s probably low blood sugar making my hands shake. I’m sorry." She gave a flimsy excuse.
"It’s fine." The man took a lollipop from his pocket, gently tore off the wrapper, and held it to Natalie Morgan’s lips. "Here."
She looked up at him, her brow furrowed.
He smiled. "It’s not poisoned."
"No, thank you," she refused.
"I’m afraid your hands will shake and you won’t be able to paint well. It’s a million, you know." He pushed it a little closer to her lips.
Natalie Morgan paused for a mont before taking it from him.
She didn’t eat it, setting the lollipop aside.
She focused on painting Thomas Morgan’s portrait. Her profile was as picturesque as a painting, and watching her, he found himself lost in a daze.
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