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 phone cut through her thoughts. It was Spencer calling this time. Anxious about not receiving an apology

snorted softly and promptly blocked

call came through. Probably Spencer again.

noticed a new email in her inbox instead,

and her eyes widened in disbelief as she read and reread

message.

she being offered

question mark. There was a hint of trepidation, fearing she might be misreading

16.05

Imagining him with a

–[Reward.]

terse response, yet it

this you

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

Haywood families could wait. For now, the thrill of the moment was

to receive another

acquaintance, and in her thirteen years with the Haywood family, all she had to show was this modest apartment. Even the car she drove was bought with her own

glaring. Spencer was nothing,

ready

with a sense of mischief, enjoying this odd game they played. Max seemed to have a

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