Holly sat in the ride-share car heading back to Glynre.
After seeing the photo sent by Shannon, her phone suddenly jumped with many Weibo ntions.
She clicked in and saw the trending topics on Weibo.
In the eyes of those netizens, she was a cheating mistress and a pathetic stand-in for his first love.
At that mont, her only thought was to leave.
Imdiately, right away.
Ride-share cars were few in the typhoon weather, Holly waited a long ti and had to pay double the usual price to get a car.
The driver was a fifty-year-old man; upon seeing Holly in the backseat, pale and lost, he kindly asked, "Miss, you’re heading out in this typhoon? In the middle of the night, isn’t your family worried?"
Family.
Seeing the uncle’s kind eyes and brows, Holly seed to see the shadow of her parents.
The emotions suppressed all night—anger, grievance, despair—broke the dam at this mont.
Tears flowed uncontrollably.
At first, she cried silently, but later, she couldn’t hold back, crying until her shoulders trembled, her whole body shaking.
From the mont she opened the safe, she had remained calm, numbing herself, even deceiving her own emotions.
Yet because of a stranger’s unintended concern, she completely broke down.
She cried uncontrollably, tears and snot masking her face.
The driver watched through the rearview mirror, sighing.
Having seen such scenes often, he didn’t ask anything, just passed a whole pack of tissues back and comforted her in an experienced tone, "Miss, don’t cry."
Holly took the tissues with a sob.
Just as she was about to thank him, she heard him say coldly and bluntly, "If you throw up from crying, it’s an extra two hundred."
Holly: "...."
Her sobs halted, and she looked up, teary-eyed at the rearview mirror.
The uncle, however, had a hint of a smile on his lips.
Holly took the tissues, mumbled, "Fine, two hundred is two hundred, I’ll buy this pack of tissues too."
She roughly wiped her tears, but the grievances in her heart had dissipated quite a bit.
The car stopped at the entrance of Glynre.
Holly opened her phone, intending to transfer money to the driver, but saw him wave his hand, "Forget it, little girl, how could I really take two hundred from you? Just teasing you, get ho early, and don’t get wet in the rain."
After speaking, he stepped on the gas and left, the taillights flickered twice in the rain and soon disappeared into the night.
Holly stood there, rain-laden wind slashing straight into her face.
Sharper than a knife, painfully so.
Holly ran into the community in the pouring rain.
Looking at the familiar gate.
She suddenly rembered before they moved, she told Blake Sinclair if he ever did sothing betraying her, she would hide in a place where no one could find her.
And at that ti, he said there wouldn’t be such a chance.
Unexpectedly, it still ca true, and now, she had fled back here, like a failure.
Everything seed to have returned to the starting point.
The Glynre house, Blake Sinclair had always had people clean it regularly.
The room was tidy yet particularly empty.
Blake Sinclair’s calls popped up on her phone again, mixed with several harassnt calls, so she simply turned it off.
The typhoon had arrived, and the camphor trees outside the window were bent and swayed by the wind. Holly tossed her soaked coat onto the sofa.
Just as she sat down, her phone vibrated again with Blake Sinclair’s na lit up on it.
She didn’t answer, directly hitting the power-off button.
She knew, with Blake Sinclair’s ability, it wouldn’t take long for him to find this place.
But she was truly exhausted.
Holly curled up on the sofa.
Previously, she had lived here alone for so long, never feeling lonely, but this ti she did.
She realized a terrifying thing, leaving Blake Sinclair actually made her feel unaccustod.
This dependency frightened her more than betrayal.
With emotions fluctuating wildly and having been drenched, she felt a bout of dizziness.
She went to the bathroom to wash her face to calm down, and finally saw her own disheveled state in the mirror.
Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, her forehead wet, indistinguishable whether it was rain or cold sweat, and her cheeks were flushed.
At this mont, suddenly there was a noise at the door.
Holly thought she was hallucinating.
But the knocking grew louder and louder.
Was it Blake Sinclair?
She didn’t want to open the door.
But the knocking beca more urgent, "Holly, Holly!"
This voice?
Why did it sound like Director Lennon’s voice?
She turned off the tap and walked toward the door, the voice getting closer and more familiar.
She opened the door.
At the door, Director Lennon’s hand was paused mid-knock.
Beside her was Jasper Crowe holding an umbrella, his shoulder half-soaked from the rain.
Seeing Holly, their eyes instantly reddened, full of heartache.
"Mom, Dad? Why are you here?"
Holly found it hard to believe, not realizing tears were streaming down uncontrollably once again.
Josephine Lennon watched Holly Crowe in this state and tears started falling from her eyes too.
She held Holly’s hand, helping her wipe away her unstoppable tears, "Don’t cry, co ho with Mom and Dad."
Holly’s facade of strength completely shattered.
She couldn’t utter a single word, as if her throat was blocked by sothing, burning hot.
She threw herself into Josephine Lennon’s arms, crying out in a storm of emotion, repeatedly saying, "Mom, I want to go ho, I want to go ho."
Josephine held her daughter tightly, also unable to stop her own tears, "Alright, alright, we’ll take you ho, let’s go ho. Whatever happens, Mom and Dad are here for you."
No matter how many years later, Holly still couldn’t imagine.
How Jasper Crowe and Josephine Lennon faced the raging storm that typhoon day, compressing a journey that should have taken over three hours into just over two, rushing from Port Kallow all the way to Glynre.
She only knew that on that typhoon day, when her world was collapsing and she had nowhere to go, family unhesitatingly stood in front of her first.
Holly was running a fever again, 38.4 degrees.
Josephine Lennon was heartbroken.
She quickly helped Holly pack a bit, and the three of them went downstairs to leave.
But just as they exited the apartnt building, they encountered Blake Sinclair.
He was drenched, looking more disheveled than ever before, the man usually so calm and composed now had eyes full of worry and panic.
Only when he saw Holly did his eyes brighten for a mont, and he stepped forward.
But Holly acted as if she didn’t see him, walking straight past him.
Seeing this, Jasper Crowe directly stepped in front of Blake Sinclair.
Normally a refined music teacher, he now resembled an old beast protecting its cub.
With the protective instinct of a father, suppressing his anger, he said, "President Sinclair! Mr. Sinclair! My daughter has suffered so much, we’re taking her ho now, please step aside."
Blake Sinclair’s gaze went past him, watching Holly from a distance.
Despite the deep night, he still saw her swollen eyes and trembling shoulders.
Was she crying again?
The pain in Blake Sinclair’s heart twisted and twisted, almost suffocating him.
He lowered his stance and pleaded, "Dad, please let say a word to Holly, alright? Let explain to her..."
Jasper Crowe was resolute and didn’t step aside, "I’m not your dad, there’s nothing to explain, please move aside!"
Each distant "sir," "President Sinclair," "Mr. Sinclair," cut into Blake Sinclair’s heart like a knife.
Seeing Holly being supported by Josephine Lennon to get into Jasper Crowe’s black Volkswagen.
Blake Sinclair, disregarding everything else, ran directly over.
"Holly, give a chance to explain! You saw what was in the safe in the study, didn’t you? Those drawings, that yarrow bird have nothing to do with Shannon Yarrow, they’re all..."
"I don’t want to know." Holly turned her back to him.
She interrupted his words effortlessly.
No anger, no questioning, just indifference.
But this scared Blake Sinclair more than any reprimand could.
He took a step forward, urgently trying to hold her hand.
"Mr. Sinclair, please don’t overstep." Josephine sharply brushed his hand away, shielding Holly behind her.
"Mom..." Blake Sinclair looked helpless.
Josephine didn’t look at him, wrapping her arm around Holly’s shoulders, leading her to the back seat of the car.
Blake Sinclair watched her get into the back seat, the car door slowly closing, feeling like his world was closing too.
His lips trembled, "Holly, don’t go..."
Holly’s back stiffened for a mont, she rolled down the window to look at him.
This look lacked the usual dependence and warmth, leaving only deep exhaustion, "Blake Sinclair, leave, let’s both calm down."
Blake Sinclair almost couldn’t stay on his feet.
The gale lifted the hem of his suit, this man who was always as steady as a mountain in Beldon’s business world now seed fragile enough to be blown down by a gentle breeze.
He humbly begged, his lips trembling, "Why? Holly, are you leaving ?"
Holly looked deeply at him, enunciating each word, "Blake Sinclair, let go, don’t make hate you."
Blake Sinclair’s whole body slumped to the side, like he was crushed, unable to say a word.
Josephine couldn’t bear to watch any longer, closing the window, shutting out his pleas.
Jasper Crowe had already moved to the driver’s seat.
Blake Sinclair realized and quickly stepped forward, blocking the car door.
"Mom, Dad, Holly, it’s too dangerous to go back to Port Kallow during the typhoon, stay in Glynre for a few days then go back, alright?"
As he spoke, his eyes never left Holly’s face, "Holly, just a few days, alright? Give a chance, just one chance..."
He pleaded, prayed.
But this ti, the divine was not on his side.
Holly didn’t look at him, her eyes remained lowered.
Just as Blake Sinclair almost felt hope rekindle, she slowly looked up.
Holly paused, softly spoke, "I want to go ho."
Go back to the place with her mom and dad, where she would never be deceived or hurt.
"Alright!"
Blake Sinclair’s heart ached to the breaking point.
He could no longer stop her.
"Alright." He repeated, voice hoarse, "Then I’ll send a car to follow behind, to ensure your safety."
Holly said nothing, her high fever left her head throbbing, without even the energy to argue.
She turned her head directly, leaning into Josephine’s arms.
The black Volkswagen slowly left.
Blake Sinclair stood where he was, watching the car vanish into the rain.
After sending a ssage to Laurel Sinclair, he turned around and got into the Maybach, tightly following behind the black Volkswagen.
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