NovelEnglishAlexander escorted her back to the Kennedy residence. Leaving her in the grandeur of the living room, he
promptly made his way to the study. Upstairs, Wayne was restlessly pacing his room, his steps threatening to
wear a hole in the plush carpet.
The study door swung open with a creak, interrupting Wayne's frenzied pacing. In a fit of rage, he snatched the
ashtray from the desk and hurled it towards the entrance. Alexander, with an uncanny sense of timing, tilted his
head just enough to evade the flying object.
The ashtray whizzed past his ear, crashing against the wall with a resounding clatter that echoed through the
house, startling the occupants downstairs.
Quinn had barely settled into a seat when she caught the faint echoes of Wayne's furious voice from upstairs. "I
leave the company in your hands and this is how you manage it?!" The venom in his voice was palpable.
Just as Freya stepped into the grand foyer, she too heard the distant outburst and instinctively glanced at Quinn.
"Is Oliver here?" she inquired. Quinn simply nodded in response.
Freya's brow furrowed in annoyance. The sight of Quinn was the last thing she needed, further souring her
already foul mood. She contemplated ascending the stairs, her son cradled in her arms, but the thought of
confronting Wayne's wrath made her reconsider and she remained where she was.
"Where's Walter? Didn't he cwith you?" she asked, her tone laced with suspicion.
The mere mention of Walter's nsent a shiver down Quinn's spine, a flood of humiliating memories from their
past encounters overwhelming her. She dreaded the thought of what Walter could do to her if Alexander ever
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtceased his search for her.
Freya's suspicions were piqued as she observed Quinn's reaction. Why would Walter's naffect her so if they
had no connection or if there was nothing to hide? Walter had been absent for days; Freya was already on edge,
and Quinn's peculiar response only heightened her alertness.
"What's wrong, sister-in-law?" Freya moved closer, settling down beside her. "Walter's been gone for days. Do
you have any idea where he might be?"
Quinn's face drained of color, her fingers turning white as she clenched the fabric of the couch. She shook her
head vehemently, indicating her ignorance.
Freya's anger flared, her features hardening. "You really have no idea?" she pressed, but Quinn continued to
shake her head.
Freya scrutinized Quinn's profile, her gaze piercing. But then, as if a thought had struck her, her anger
evaporated. Cradling her baby, she offered him to Quinn. "Look at Harold, don't you think he's grown a bit?"
Quinn averted her gaze, her eyes downcast. The baby gurgled and drooled in Freya's arms, his new little teeth
almost ready to break through the gums. Quinn, lost in thought, absently touched her own abdomen, feeling a
hollow emptiness that seemed to bleed internally.
I" |
He's such a handful now, always
throwing off his blankets and
refusing his formyl, [Fl ome!
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ease /I'thought
something was wrong, but the doctor
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said he just doesn't want it anymore.
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Kids, you know?" Freya prattled on,
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oblivious to Quinn's ghostly pallor.
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You're lucky, you know. Not having
kids means no such troubles. Ever
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since | had him, | feel like I've aged
years. Look at me, do | have wrinkles
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now?" Freya s spills radiant, but
the Fold SONNE in her eyes was
unmistakable. Quinn slowly shifted
' q
her gaze to Freya's face. Wrinkles?
Her face was full of nothing but
n ' :
contempt. "What's the matter, sis?
g an [18
That look in your eyes... You don't like
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kids, do you? Oh, that's right. They
f 1
are a handful, and my brother isn't
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fond of them either." The content is
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