Chapter 13

Brielle dismissed the barrage of notifications on her phone with a flick of her thumb, “Patrick, could you stop at the next intersection, please?” Her tone was indifferent, laced with a weariness that seemed to seep into the bir around her.

Through the rearview mirror, Patrick tried to glean some sort of cue from Max’s expression, a sign of what he might be thinking, but his face was impassive. As they reached the crossroads, he obeyed the request and brought the car to a smooth halt.

Brielle clutched the box a little tighter, a flicker of disappointment crossing her mind. She had half-expected Max to ask her to stay, but he remained seated, his demeanor as detached as a statue devoid of emotion.

“Uncle Max, not even a goodbye?” she teased, resting against the window, her long hair falling around her face, making it seem even smaller. Her eyes caught the reflection of the vibrant streetlights, beautiful and clear. She was just joking, and before waiting for a response, she walked across the pedestrian walkway, carrying her box.

Max watched her in silence, his gaze lingering long after she’d faded from view.

She was like a wounded animal, licking its injuries alone, trying to bristle with soft spines to protect the last remnants of its.dignity amidst the turmoil.

Brielle walked with her back straight, only slowing her pace when she was out of the reach of that penetrating gaze.

Her apartment was close by. The chill of the evening breeze was just what she needed. Hope only bred greater disappointment.

her thoughts. It was Spencer calling this time. Anxious about not receiving an apology from her, his impatience was

snorted softly and promptly blocked

Spencer again. Those two were

in her inbox instead, an offer

trembled slightly, and her eyes widened

message.

she being offered

mark. There was a hint

16.05

car? Imagining him with a stern face,

–[Reward.]

it

this you

her feeling elated, as if the world was celebrating with fireworks. She had left feeling suffocated, and now she

and Haywood families could wait. For now, the thrill of

to receive another email, containing just one

and in her thirteen years with the Haywood

the disappointment more glaring. Spencer

assured, Uncle Max, I am ready to

mischief, enjoying this odd game they played. Max seemed to have a peculiar fondness

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