Rebirth of the Movie Queen: Mrs. Sinclair, Please Hug Me! Chapter 429: Old Residence

Grandpa Sinclair seized the opportunity between words to glare fiercely at Elias Sinclair, as if blaming him for not taking good care of Quinn Lockwood.

"Even a small cold is not okay; she’s been hospitalized for so many days, it must be serious. Elias, have Angus give Savannah a thorough check-up later, don’t just let him focus on research!" Grandpa Sinclair said, sitting on the sofa with Quinn Lockwood’s help and tapping his cane forcefully on the ground, clearly showing his dissatisfaction with Elias Sinclair.

The man nodded in response, his handso face remaining calm, and his eyes still deep and dark, though his brows twitched slightly when his gaze fell upon the box.

"Did Uncle Lockwood send this over?" The man’s cool, deep voice resonated, magnetic and devoid of any discernible emotion.

Quinn Lockwood’s fingers twitched, and she hurriedly picked up the box to hold it in her arms. For so reason, hearing Elias Sinclair ask so naturally made her inexplicably nervous.

"I saw Uncle Lockwood while processing paperwork, and we chatted briefly. When he heard I was sick, he sent soone to deliver this dicine." Quinn Lockwood’s voice was a bit soft, so soft that although she was stating a fact, it sounded almost like a lie.

She didn’t know why she was so nervous, it seed that whenever soone ntioned anything about Mr. Lockwood, she would react like this.

Grandpa Sinclair nodded as he noticed Quinn Lockwood’s slightly bowed head and her lack of energy, assuming she was too tired.

"You’ve exhausted yourself in the hospital all these days; Grandpa is relieved to know you’re alright. Hurry back and rest."

"Elias, take good care of Savannah, and rember to express my gratitude to the Lockwood Family." After speaking, Grandpa Sinclair gave Elias a warning look, as if conveying sothing unspoken.

After returning to her room, Quinn Lockwood locked the door behind her.

She sat on the sofa holding the dicine box, gently and cautiously unwrapping it as if it were a precious gift.

Inside lay quietly a box of ground herbal dicine, but to Quinn Lockwood, it was the first thing her father had ever given her, a treasure beyond asure.

Holding the box, she nestled on the sofa, her gaze empty and unfocused on the ground, clearly deep in thought.

Unknowingly, Quinn Lockwood fell asleep on the sofa clutching the box.

Her awkward sleeping posture and the cramped space left her with a sore back.

After tidying herself up, she set off for the film set.

She had been sick for so many days and must have delayed a lot of filming, feeling remorseful for it.

When she arrived at the set, it was evident filming had been underway for so ti, the studio eerily quiet except for the humming of machines and the lines of actors, void of any other sound.

With the call "Cut," the set instantly buzzed with various noises.

"Oh, Savannah, you’re quite early today, only two scenes are done." Ariana Lynch comnted, dressed in a flowing white robe with elegant makeup, fitting her character, which indicated her next scene.

Hearing Ariana Lynch’s voice irritated Quinn Lockwood, and turning to see her hypocritical smile made her want to tear off her mask.

Just monts after joining the props team, Ariana Lynch approached with her sarcastic remarks.

Was the oppression really that blatant?

With arms crossed, Quinn Lockwood looked at Ariana Lynch with a cold expression, as if she had no desire to engage with her.

"I was supposed to have the day off today, and even if I arrived after the two scenes, it’s not too late." Quinn Lockwood raised an eyebrow, said, and then turned to head toward the makeup room, not sparing Ariana Lynch another glance.

Her mind was cluttered with many burdens.

Jonah Hansen, Ariana Lynch, Elias Sinclair, lody Shepherd, and Mr. Lockwood...

Past unfinished burdens and newly complex relationships in this life, all swirling in a tangled web, making her mind feel like it might explode.

Quinn Lockwood waited for several scenes before calming enough to imrse herself in the role.

Due to her not-so-good state and her special overti visit, Quinn Lockwood finished her work for the day after just one scene.

She initially planned to handle so matters at the studio but changed her mind when she drove to the company building.

Sitting in her car, her gaze heavy as she looked out the window, a thought surged through her mind.

She wanted to go ho to see.

Back to that ho which likely had turned into ruins by now.

Restarting the car that hadn’t yet been steady, Quinn Lockwood drove based on her own mory toward the suburban area far from the bustling city center where she used to live.

Unbeknownst to her, not long after she set off, a black luxury car discreetly followed behind her.

Crossing two districts and taking the highway, it took Quinn Lockwood over half an hour to return to her forr ho.

Sitting in her car, she gazed at the grim, hollow shell of a house, remaining there for a long ti without daring to get out.

Pain.

Just sitting there watching, Quinn Lockwood felt her whole body burn with pain.

After a while, she got out of the car, her face frighteningly pale.

So things she simply had to face directly; she had died once, the pain of being burned she had already endured.

With steady, dignified steps, Quinn Lockwood walked toward the dirty, disordered shell of a house, her expression as calm and serious as soone about to enter a noble palace for a coronation.

She could still discern the shape of the main door, outside of which, on a completely intact wall inside, was a prominent "demolition" painted in red.

Quinn Lockwood continued walking inside.

Her high heels crunched over the burned-black stones, making a crackling sound, while weeds sprouting from the ground occasionally pricked her feet, leaving red marks.

So this place is really going to be demolished...

Now that both she and her mother were gone, could even this solitary testant of their existence not be preserved?

Quinn Lockwood lifted her hand to touch the charred surface, fingers gently gliding over it as if caressing a fine mural. Her fingers swept away the black soot from the wall, leaving a shallow mark, as if to prove she had been here.

At this mont, the black car that followed her also stopped not far away, and the man inside stepped out. Observing the surroundings, his clear, gentle eyes knitted into a frown, filled with confusion.

Caron Grant walked in Quinn Lockwood’s direction, taking in the entire environnt.