Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 282

Larson was behind the wheel himself—no chauffeur, and he hadn’t called for Latham, either.

But just as he settled into the driver’s seat, his phone rang. It was Latham.

He glanced at Emma in the passenger seat, then let the engine idle as he answered, offering only a brief “Yeah,” signaling for Latham to get to the point.

Latham kept it short. “I’ve got what you asked for. Sending it now.” Within moments, several files landed in Larson’s inbox.

After hanging up, Larson scrolled through the documents one by one.

He had to admit—Latham was good at his job. In just a short time, he’d gathered dozens of pages, complete with photos and diagrams.

Larson took a few minutes to skim the material, quickly getting a sense of what he needed.

“Is Mr. Fairchild looking for you about something important?” Emma asked, noticing the serious look on his face.

Larson shook his head and set his phone aside. Instead, he turned to her. “Emmie, tell me about your plans. What are you thinking—about you and Theodore?”

Truthfully, Emma had only just “met” this long-lost brother—there wasn’t much closeness between them yet. Since their reunion in Europe and the trip back to Cresthaven, she’d barely mentioned her marriage. She hadn’t expected Larson to ask now, of all times.

Still, since he’d brought it up, he’d probably heard something from their aunt already. Emma decided to be straightforward. “I know exactly what I want. I’m not going back. I came home to get a divorce. But right now, finding Grandma comes first. Once she’s safe, I’ll take care of the paperwork.”

“What are you daydreaming about?” Larson teased, ruffling her hair again. “Come on, let’s get you back to the hotel for some rest.”

Back at the hotel, Emma felt more clear-headed than she had all day. Sharing a room with Larson felt awkward—her taking the bed while he took the couch—so she slipped away to her own room.

“If you need anything, just call me,” Larson said, not pressing the issue. He’d probably be out later tonight anyway, and separate rooms would keep from disturbing her.

“Okay. Goodnight, Larson.” Emma watched him walk out, then closed the door and picked up her phone to message Vivian.

They’d already been in touch that afternoon; Vivian had promised an update tonight, and Emma needed to wait for her reply.