「Six months later.」
「Fenchest.」
Natalie Morgan had returned to her old school to work.
After all she had been through, she found her current life increasingly peaceful and warm.
So of the older colleagues at school, whether intentionally or not, kept trying to set her up with soone.
She politely declined every ti.
Marriage, to her, was not a necessity in life.
"Ms. Childs, there’s a new teacher at our school. He’s about your age and quite handso. You should seize the opportunity!"
"That’s right, Ms. Childs. You’re so beautiful, no one can tell you’ve had a child. A catch like him is a rare find. You can’t let him get away."
"Ms. Childs, don’t just stay put. When it’s ti to move forward, you have to take that step..."
Her colleagues chid in one after another.
Natalie Morgan smiled, a mixture of politeness and awkwardness.
She only knew the new teacher’s na was Ethan Yates. She hadn’t t him yet, but she’d heard he was a recent graduate from so famous art academy abroad and that coming to this school was basically like an internship for him.
He probably wouldn’t be staying for long.
’Besides, what does that have to do with ?’
Clutching her textbook, Natalie Morgan backed out of the office, still smiling.
She hadn’t taken more than a few steps before she bumped into soone.
"Oh, I’m sorry. Excuse ."
She looked up into a young, handso face.
He had that "puppy-dog" look—sweet, eager to please, and disarmingly innocent.
Although he looked quite friendly on the surface.
But her judgnt of character had always been poor.
She often couldn’t tell a man from a monster.
’So it was best not to comnt.’
"You must be Ms. Childs. I heard you’re from Riverden University’s Academy of Fine Arts. Maybe we could have a friendly competition soti?" The man’s face held a gentle smile, but there was a hint of competitiveness in it.
She’d had first etings filled with false pleasantries.
But this was the first ti soone had thrown down the gauntlet.
Natalie Morgan gave an awkward laugh. "Okay, sure."
"By the way, Ms. Childs, there’s a painting competition with the the of migrant workers. Did you sign up for it?"
Natalie Morgan hadn’t paid much attention to such things.
Entering competitions in the past had brought her a lot of fa, and the prices for her paintings had risen accordingly.
She didn’t want to be too famous and rarely signed up for competitions anymore.
"No," she said truthfully.
"Why not?"
He asked her in a strange tone.
As if it were a huge mistake not to participate.
Natalie Morgan felt a flicker of annoyance at his tone. Her expression cooled slightly. "What? Is it mandatory?"
"Not exactly." Ethan Yates quickly realized his attitude had been off and smiled sheepishly. "Don’t get wrong, what I an is..."
"I have to get to class."
Natalie Morgan didn’t give him a chance to explain.
’Whatever he ant, it wasn’t important.’
Her first impression of him wasn’t very good.
There was an imperceptible arrogance about him that she really didn’t like.
Looking harmless and being harmless were two completely different concepts.
It made Natalie Morgan think of Sean Lane.
A sewer rat disguised in the skin of an innocent young man.
She’d heard he had already joined the Grant Group’s board of directors.
Becoming the group’s president was likely just around the corner.
The Grant Group had fallen into chaos after Theodore Grant’s death.
Every day, the news reported on various internal scandals at the Grant Group, so involving Lucas Grant and Sean Lane.
The once-great Grant Group had been turned into a complete ss.
Every ti she saw this news, she felt that her decision to leave Riverden had been the right one.
After work, she went ho, had dinner, and played with Momo for a while before preparing to settle in with a book.
The doorbell rang.
Puzzled, she went to open the door.
"Ms. Childs."
She peered through the peephole. It was Ethan Yates.
’Why would he co to my house this late?’
"Mr. Yates, you... Is there sothing I can help you with?"
Natalie Morgan’s voice wasn’t particularly friendly.
But it was polite enough.
Ethan Yates grinned sheepishly in apology. "I was a bit forward at school today. I hope you won’t hold my bluntness against , Ms. Childs. But the painting competition with the migrant worker the is really aningful. It could help improve their working conditions and pay."
’This again.’
Natalie Morgan had no desire to discuss this. "Mr. Yates, did you co all this way just to talk to about this?"
"I guess you could say that." He took a few drawings from his bag, works he had done a few days ago. "Ms. Childs, take a look at these pieces. I drew them at a construction site. They show the workers’ conditions while they’re working and resting."
To be honest.
Natalie Morgan really wasn’t interested.
The idea that a single competition could change the living conditions of an entire group of people was practically impossible.
But, not wanting to be rude, she took them and glanced over them.
Most of them depicted scenes of workers toiling away.
One of them was a close-up portrait...
The man’s face was caked in a thick layer of dust, his lips dry and chapped. A tattered piece of cloth was wrapped around the hand holding a stead bun, likely covering an injury.
But his eyes... they were so familiar. They looked like... like... Theodore Grant.
Natalie Morgan’s pupils suddenly contracted.
The sketch wasn’t very clear, so it seed absurd to identify a dead man from a single drawing.
She pointed at the man in the drawing and asked Ethan Yates, "This person is..."
"So fool. He’s big and tall, and the foreman likes him. Says he’s young and strong, works hard, and never seems to get tired." He had seen the man before, always covered in dirt. "He never talks. I don’t know if he’s mute. He seems pretty pitiful."
’A fool?’
’Mute?’
’Hauling bricks at a construction site?’
How could that possibly be the sa ruthless, cunning, arrogant man who stood at the pinnacle of wealth and power?
’It can’t be Theodore Grant.’
’It must be soone who just looks a lot like him.’
For so reason, even so, she still wanted to go see for herself.
"Mr. Yates, why don’t you go ahead and sign up? Tomorrow is the weekend. We could go to the construction site together for a look. I’m also quite interested in understanding the workers’ current situation. What do you think?"
Ethan Yates thought that was an excellent idea.
He nodded excitedly. "Great! I’ll co get you tomorrow, and we can go together."
"Okay."
As he spoke, Ethan Yates reached to take back the drawings he had handed to Natalie Morgan.
Natalie Morgan’s gaze was fixed on the man in the drawing, and her fingers tightened involuntarily. "Mr. Yates, this drawing... it’s very well done. Could you give it to ?"
"You think I captured his essence, don’t you?" Ethan Yates was always generous when he t soone who appreciated his art. "If you like it, it’s yours."
"Thank you."
After politely seeing Ethan Yates out,
Natalie Morgan stared blankly at the man in the drawing.
Weller Kendall had searched the area of the sea where Theodore Grant went down for three months before finally giving up.
It was a bottomless abyss. For a car to lose control and plunge in with soone inside... survival was next to impossible.
Even if he had managed to escape death, Weller Kendall would have been the first to find and rescue him...
’Could this construction worker possibly be Theodore Grant?’
She didn’t dare to speculate.
Gently, she turned the drawing over and placed it on the table.
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