"You are going to do great coming to vist," Avery said, and Lucy smiled warmly. Avery looked at Lucy with genuine admiration, seeing a person who seemed almost entirely flawless—graceful, charismatic, and possessing a captivating presence. Avery found herself deeply curious to know more about Lucy's life.
"Thank you for the invite to your penthouse," Lucy said.
Avery smiled, thinking to herself how pretty Lucy was, her appearance pristine and effortless. "You know, I haven't seen you around here before," Avery said. "Your aunt has been living here for so long now that I honestly thought she had no other relatives."
Hearing this, Lucy felt a familiar pang. She considered being completely honest and telling Avery about the accidental separation at the train station all those years ago, even though it was deep in the past.
"I haven't been around because, well... I couldn't meet my aunt for a long time. We got separated when we were traveling," Lucy said, her voice quiet.
As she spoke, Avery noticed a sudden shift in Lucy's eyes, the bright joy dimming away. Avery felt a wave of shock in her heart; Lucy had been missing from her aunt? Avery would never have guessed such a hardship had touched someone who looked so calm and gentle.
"Lucy, I'm so sorry to hear that," Avery said, her voice carrying a mixture of sadness and deep empathy. She could truly feel the weight of what Lucy must have gone through.
Sensing the sincerity and sympathy in Avery's voice, Lucy offered a soft, grateful smile. "It's fine, thanks Avery."
"How old were you when you got separated from your aunt?" Avery asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
"I was seven."
"That's awful. You must have been so lonely without her. I know I would have felt completely lost and sad," Avery said, looking at her with compassionate eyes.
"Well, I did feel lonely and sad at first," Lucy admitted. "I was just glad I knew my aunt was looking for me when I went missing, even when she couldn't find me."
"Okay... how did it all go? Did she ever find you?"
"Well, she couldn't locate me, and I eventually ended up staying at an orphanage because Aunt Madison couldn't track me down. I ended up growing up there, and it became my home for most of my life."
"That's so terrible," Avery said, shuddering slightly at the thought. She couldn't even fathom growing up in an orphanage. "I feel so sad that you had to go through that. So you had to live there for almost your whole life?"
"Well, yes... until I turned eighteen."
Avery felt a profound sense of empathy for everything Lucy had endured. "So, what was the orphanage like?" she asked softly, feeling a secondary pang of sadness for Madison, knowing how miserable the poor woman must have been all those years without her niece.
"It was actually really good. I genuinely enjoyed my time there. Spring Orphanage is a good place, and it's a home I love because most of the people there were so kind to me. I'm deeply grateful for them—though I do miss them."
Wow, Avery thought to herself. I honestly thought she would hate her experience there. I always assumed orphanages weren't kind places for kids to grow up. Thank God Lucy was happy.
"The orphanage is called Spring Orphanage?" Avery asked out loud.
"Yes," Lucy answered.
"So you didn't hate it? Not even a little bit—the place, the people, the food, or the environment?" Avery pressed gently, keeping her eyes on Lucy, wanting to know the unvarnished truth.
"Nope, I didn't hate Spring Orphanage or dislike it one bit. Everyone tried their best to be kind, and some people were genuinely wonderful right from the start. That made it a wonderful place for me to grow up. Best of all, I made a true sister there."
"You were really happy there, even though your aunt couldn't find you?"
"Yes. I made great good friends."
"Thank God you were happy there, and thank God you found good friends."
"You know, I made a special friend when I first moved in, and we grew up together like sisters. I call her my sister because she is extremely kind. Her name is Elsa. She took care of me, we were inseparable, and I love her so much because she always shared her things with me and kept me smiling," Lucy said.
As Lucy spoke about Elsa, Avery couldn't help but admire Elsa's goodness from afar. At the same time, a quiet competitive spark flickered in Avery's chest—she wanted to be an even better friend to Lucy, hoping one day Lucy might care for her just as much, if not more than Elsa.
"Wow, Elsa sounds like such a wonderful person," Avery said aloud.
Lucy's eyes met Avery's. "Yes, she really is."
"When we turned eighteen, we moved out of the orphanage together and started fending for ourselves," Lucy continued. "We took on part-time jobs, and Elsa looked after me like I was her actual little sister. I appreciate her so much."
"That is incredibly kind of her."
"Yes, it is," Lucy agreed.
"So how did you and your aunt finally find each other?" Avery asked, leaning in.
"I did some investigating and a lot of research into the day I went missing at the train station. I tracked down some old numbers and records of who was looking for me, and I kept calling until I found hers. That's how we finally reconnected."
Avery was momentarily at a loss for words. She never could have imagined that Lucy had lived through such a painful separation from Madison—who had distinct orange hair—let alone that Madison had been living right in the neighborhood all this time while Avery had been seeing her around.
"I'm so glad you two are together now. She must be endlessly happy to have you back," Avery said.
Lucy smiled brightly. "Yes, very happy." Lucy says and knew her aunt had been miserable without her, it made Lucy feel sorry for her aunt and sad that she had to separate from her aunt in the first place.
Changing the tone to something lighter, Avery asked what jobs Lucy worked after leaving the orphanage. Lucy shared that she had worked as a diner waitress and a florist, leaving Avery thoroughly impressed. In turn, Avery mentioned that she had finished her education a year ago, which equally impressed Lucy, who shared that she was currently heading off to college. Before long, the two were laughing, giggling, and trading stories about the things they loved.
Meanwhile, over at Violet's Cafe—a modern, stylish shop outfitted with cozy couches, chairs, and tables—Elsa was standing at the counter placing an order for her favorite latte. Stepping into the cafe shop is Silas dressed in an expensive matte long coat that accentuated his broad, dashing shoulders, he immediately commanded the room with an effortless, natural air of authority. Several eyes in the cafe instantly trailed after him as he walked to the counter.
As Elsa reached into her trouser pockets to grab her credit card, her heart suddenly skipped a beat. She'd left her credit card in her purse back at the bookstore, and she had brought zero cash with her. She had completely forgotten! What was she going to do now? The latte had already been ordered, and walking all the way back to the bookstore was a long trek she desperately wanted to avoid.
Just as panic began to settle in A tall, striking figure stepped up beside her. It was Silas.
Silas glanced over and immediately recognized her—it was the same young woman he had met that night at the club. Seeing the distressed look on her face, he noticed her hands nervously clasped together, with no purse or cash in sight.
"Ma'am, are you having this drink?" the barista asked, noticing Elsa's hesitation and the lack of payment.
Realizing instantly that Elsa had forgotten her money, Silas stepped forward without missing a beat. "I'll pay," he said smoothly, extending his card to the barista.
Elsa blinked in surprise, looking up at him. Suddenly, it clicked—he was the same man who had chivalrously helped her that night at the club.
Silas turned his dark brown eyes toward her and turned his eyes towards the menu screen as he waited for his own order of a drink and a pastry to go through.
"Thank you so much," Elsa said softly, her brown honey eyes fixed on him.
"It's fine," Silas replied calmly.
Elsa took a tentative sip of her warm latte, feeling an immense wave of gratitude. Aside from helping her pay her drink, he had also safely driven her home the other day. As Silas collected his order and a box of pastries, Elsa stood a short distance away, looking like she wanted to say something more. Sensing her hesitation, Silas paused.
"Thank you so much for paying for my drink, and for helping me get home the other day," Elsa said, holding her cup and looking right at him with total sincerity.
"It's fine," Silas repeated, his brown eyes locking onto hers. Deep down, his soul was genuinely glad to see her again; ever since that night, he had hoped their paths would cross. She's exceptionally attractive in a good way, he thought to himself.
Feeling the need to explain her absentmindedness, Elsa offered a small, self-conscious smile. "I left my purse at work. I totally forgot to bring it."
"I understand," he said, noting how naturally charming she was.
"I'm truly thankful for your help. Thanks again," she repeated, feeling a bit clumsy for leaving her purse behind.
Sensing that he had to get going, Elsa gave a polite nod. "Bye."
"Bye," Silas said.
With a small parting nod, Silas turned and left the cafe, clutching her latte and feeling much lighter and happier Elsa walked leaving the cafe and toward the bookstore.
Silas headed out toward his car parked along the street. Just as he opened the door, his phone rang. It was Roman. He tapped the screen and answered.
"Hello Silas, how have you been? I just wanted to check up on you," Roman said from his office, casually swirling a pen while one of his staff members dropped a stack of documents onto his desk.
"I'm good, Roman. What about you? How are things?" Silas asked, sliding into the passenger seat of his car while his driver prepared to pull away.
"Good, just working," Roman replied, watching the staff file out of his office.
"Glad to hear," Silas said, glancing at the cup holder where he safely placed his pastry box and drink.
"Where are you?" Roman asked.
"In my car."
"Interesting," Roman chimed playfully. "I just wanted to make sure you were doing well."
"Thanks, Roman."
"Yeah, of course," Roman said, glancing back at his paperwork. "I should let you get back to whatever you're doing."
"Agreed," Silas said. Before hanging up, Silas thought briefly about how Roman still didn't know about his retirement—a major life change that happened while he was still entangled with Catelyn, a chapter he wasn't quite ready to open up about with Roman.
"See you soon, Roman. Bye."
"Bye, Silas," Roman said, and the line went dead.
The driver glanced at Silas through the rearview mirror. "Where to, sir?"
"To the company," Silas replied, taking a sip of his drink and biting into a doughnut. Despite a busy workday ahead, a quiet contentment settled in his soul. He had seen Elsa again—even if he still didn't even know her name.
Back at the brown bookstore, Elsa was finally reunited with her purse, checking to make sure her credit card and cash were safely inside. She let out a silent breath of relief, thanking her lucky stars that handsome stranger had shown up to cover her coffee. Otherwise, she would have had to make that long, annoying walk all the way back. She couldn't help but smile, feeling deeply grateful for the second time he had crossed her path.
Later that evening, back in her room, Elsa sat quietly on the edge of her bed. She opened her bedside drawer and pulled out her purse. Reaching inside, her fingers brushed against the cheques she had received from Jordin.
The memory of what happened with him rushed back—raw, real, and heavy with regret. She felt a terrible ache in her chest, feeling cheap and foolish for everything that had transpired between them. Quickly pushing the toxic thoughts away, she reminded herself that the past was the past. She needed to focus on the present and put that money to good use to make proper amends for her mistakes.
Closing the drawer, she stood up and walked over to her wardrobe. Opening the closet doors, she pulled out a secure bag tucked away inside, opened her purse within it, and carefully slid the cheque inside, tucking it safely away out of sight.