Boss, Your Ex-Wife is Unreachable Now! novel Chapter 158

The next morning, Willow had already composed herself and thrown her energy back into research. None of her colleagues sensed anything out of the ordinary; she masked her feelings flawlessly.

Three days passed in a blur of focused, demanding work, and soon the weekend arrived.

Last week, Maurice had taken Willow's advice and gone home for a visit. He also took the opportunity to probe his older brother for any information about the three foreign men Willow was trying to find. So far, he'd come up empty-handed.

This weekend, as usual, Maurice stopped by Willow's dorm to ask if she planned to stay and put in some extra hours.

At the current pace, their project might actually reach completion in just two more months.

Willow didn't hesitate. "Not this time. I've got plans."

Maurice shot her a teasing look. "Oh yeah? Who with? Guy or girl?"

Willow packed her bag as she answered, "A real knockout. Want me to introduce you?"

Maurice rolled his eyes. "I'll pass."

He headed back to his own room to get ready—he was planning to go home again this weekend too. He still needed to finish that Iron Man-themed ceramic he'd been working on.

*

That evening, instead of heading back to her apartment at Cliffhaven Gardens, Willow went to her dad's house.

She hadn't let him know in advance, so she wasn't even sure if he'd be home tonight.

Her brother Klein's school started the new semester a couple of weeks earlier than most—classes had begun in early February. This term, Klein had classes every Friday night, which meant he sometimes just spent the night in his dorm.

When Willow arrived at her father's place, she turned her phone back on.

Messages flooded in immediately.

Scrolling through them, she saw the usual WhatsApp notifications—and several texts from an unfamiliar number.

The first had come in last Sunday night, around ten: "Are you okay?"

Willow frowned, a suspicion forming in her mind—this had to be Beasley.

The second text followed: "Why aren't you answering?"

Her hunch only grew stronger—definitely Beasley.

She opened the third message: "I've already had the trending post taken down."

The fourth was sent at seven the next morning: "You really need to stop turning your phone off when you're writing."

The last one had come in at noon that same day: "Reply when you see this. Let me know you're alive."

Willow stared at the messages on her screen and couldn't help but let out a laugh—frustrated, amused, and exasperated all at once.