To Love a Shadow, To Be the Sun novel Chapter 137

But by the time she reached the front steps, the car was already gone, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust in its wake.

Director Brown spoke up quickly, "Mr. Lawrence, she was in my office earlier. I have security footage from that time."

The man's face remained unreadable, but he shot his assistant a look.

The assistant stepped forward. "Director Brown, Mr. Lawrence is here on a private matter. You really shouldn't have made such a grand show of things. In this heat, making the children dance out in the sun—why don't you try it yourself?"

Director Brown stiffened, rendered speechless.

"Mr. Lawrence will be making a personal donation of three hundred thousand dollars for the children. Every penny of that needs to go directly to them."

Director Brown nodded hastily. "Of course, Mr. Lawrence. I'll see to it myself."

Without a change in expression, the man turned to his assistant. "Pull the security footage," he instructed, then glanced back at Director Brown.

"One more stunt like this, and you'll be out of a job. Maybe you'll find your true calling scrubbing toilets."

Director Brown's face drained of color.

Elara hadn't managed to dig up anything useful, but she wasn't particularly disappointed.

"The teachers here have never really cared about the kids," she said. "It's not surprising we came up empty-handed."

If they had, she wouldn't have ended up in the hands of that psychopath all those years ago.

"Our main reason for coming to Breezewood City is to meet Mr. Holt. Let's get a hotel, freshen up, and then go see him."

…

But by the time evening rolled around, Mr. Holt had another engagement he couldn't refuse—dinner with clients at a garden restaurant.

"Is he messing with us on purpose?" Summer grumbled.

Still, Elara wouldn't be discouraged. She got the restaurant's address from Holt's assistant and dragged Summer along.

They stationed themselves at the entrance, determined to wait him out. Eventually, he'd have to come out.

Through the large window of a private dining room facing the street, three silhouettes could be seen beneath the warm light.

"Elara…" Summer tugged at her sleeve, voice bristling with indignation. "You and Brian aren't even divorced yet, and that shameless little tramp is already glued to your husband. Does she have no shame?"

Following Summer's gaze, Elara saw Brian and Lina sitting inside, chatting and laughing with a middle-aged man.

Brian and the man seemed polite but distant, while Lina—seated between them—flitted from pouring wine to serving food, making small talk and keeping the mood lively. Every gesture exuded the sense that Brian indulged her every whim.

Inside the restaurant, Lina had chosen this private room on purpose—she wanted Elara to see her playing the perfect companion to Brian.

"It's about to rain," Lina remarked demurely. "Why don't we wait until it passes before leaving?"

Mr. Holt followed her gaze to the woman waiting outside, realizing she was there to see him.

"Persistent, these young people," he mused aloud.

Lina merely smiled, pulling out her phone to order another couple of dishes.

Summer weather could flip in an instant, and in just a few minutes, the sky opened up in a torrential downpour.

Summer hadn't returned with the umbrella yet, so Elara was forced to take shelter under the restaurant's narrow awning. But the overhang was too small, and the rain was relentless. By the time Summer came running back with an umbrella, Elara was already soaked through.

Mr. Holt glanced at Brian. "What did that girl from Ignition Dynamics ever do to you, for you to treat her like this?"

Brian's gaze lingered on Elara's stubborn, rain-drenched face, his eyes dark and unreadable.

Mr. Holt looked from Elara to Lina, who was deliberately dragging out their meal, and couldn't help but wonder: Is this some lovers' quarrel, with Brian playing the dutiful husband caught in the middle?

He'd never met Mrs. Vincent before, and Brian hadn't introduced the woman at his side tonight. But seeing how brazen she was, and how Brian let her get away with it, Mr. Holt was fairly certain—this must be Mrs. Vincent herself.