And then, Henry’s voice came through, clear and casual. “Irene, the fireworks are about to start. It’s rare for you to relax like this—I don’t want you in a bad mood because of me. Once we’re back, I’ll personally apologize to Mr. Carter. Even if I have to kneel, it’s fine.”
The call was cut off immediately.
She must have hung up in such a hurry—afraid of missing the beautiful fireworks, no doubt.
I held my children’s urns in my arms, tears falling uncontrollably.
“Daddy will never let them get away with this,” I whispered.
Eventually, I cried myself into unconsciousness.
The next day, when I woke up, my eyes were so swollen I could barely open them.
I put on a pair of sunglasses and went downstairs— only to see a familiar figure moving busily outside.
Irene was carrying a bowl of porridge. She froze for a moment when she saw me, but quickly put on a casual smile.
“You’re up? I made you breakfast. Eat a little, okay?”
“I figured you’d overthink everything after yesterday. I didn’t even rest—I flew back overnight.”
I opened my mouth to tell her there was no need, but then I saw a tall figure rush out of the bathroom, wearing my pajamas.