Quincy mentioned there was trouble at work, so naturally, Lydia asked a few questions. But he didn't want to say much, leaving her no choice but to let it go. "Alright, just come home soon," she finally said.

After they hung up, there was a knock at the door, followed by the concerned voice of the housekeeper.

"Ma'am, I've made some chicken soup. Would you like some?"

Lydia opened the door and let her in to set the soup on the table. The housekeeper was about to leave, but she hesitated, as if she had something on her mind. "What is it, Mrs. Clinton?" Lydia asked.

Mrs. Clinton hesitated for a moment before replying, "A man called earlier. When I asked who he was, he hung up right away."

"Maybe he dialed the wrong number?"

"That's what I thought too. But he called several times," she said, looking at Lydia with uncertainty. "I thought he might be trying to reach someone."

hadn't come home yet, and aside from Mrs. Clinton, she was

But how would anyone know the

Eugene, and her expression darkened. Just thinking about him put her

In fact, just unplug

Unplugging it would stop the calls entirely. Mrs. Clinton nodded and quickly went downstairs, likely to disconnect

the middle of the night, she stirred, feeling a faint tickling sensation. When she opened her

of a hand lightly brushing against her. The moment she fully woke up, the hand quickly pulled

her and spoke in a groggy voice, "Quincy? Why didn't you wake me when you

to disturb you," Quincy

resting her head on his lap. Quincy gently helped her

surrounding her, Lydia felt an overwhelming sense of peace. After some time, she broke the

and

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