She seemed to be completely unenthusiastic about the matter.
Sophia clenched her jaw. She wanted to argue, but the words stuck in her throat. Still, she remained seated beside Katelyn. Minutes passed, and finally, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. “And what about detoxifying me?” she pressed.
She knew pushing too hard could backfire, but she couldn’t stand not knowing what Katelyn was planning. The uncertainty was driving her insane.
At last, Katelyn lifted her gaze, meeting Sophia’s eyes. “Why are you so impatient? Your poison isn’t something that can be rushed. It has to be handled carefully.”
Sophia was at a loss for words. She stared at Katelyn’s indifferent expression, a surge of frustration bubbling up inside her. For a brief moment, she had the urge to grab Katelyn and shake her. But she forced herself to hold back.
Just then, Vincent stepped out of the house, carrying a cup of coffee for Katelyn.
Sophia glanced at him before lowering her voice. “You’d better hurry. I don’t want to die and take all these secrets to the grave with me.” With that, she stood up and walked away.
Katelyn watched her retreating figure, arching an eyebrow slightly.
Vincent set the coffee down in front of her, his gaze flickering toward Sophia’s silhouette as he asked, “She seemed pretty upset. What did she say?”
It wasn’t often that Sophia lost her composure like that.
Katelyn smirked. “She’s impatient. Before, I wondered if her surrender was part of her scheme. But now? I don’t even need to question it.” Sophia was in too much of a hurry. That alone spoke volumes.
Vincent’s lips curved into a faint smile, his voice light. “Good. Now that we’re sure, we just have to wait. The truth will come out on its own.”
For now, the priority was to stay protected. Katelyn understood what he meant.
“No rush,” she said, nodding.
Before, she had been anxious—Sophia and her people had been lurking in the shadows. But now, as they slowly revealed themselves, it was becoming much easier to track them down.
Vincent took a seat beside her, keeping her company under the warm afternoon sun. A rare, fleeting moment of peace in their chaotic lives.
That morning, as Katelyn sat at the dining table finishing her breakfast, her phone rang. It was Bernie.
“Miss Bailey, I’ve found an estate that meets your criteria. Do you want to come take a look?”
She paused momentarily, almost forgetting. “Of course. Where is it? Send me the address, and I’ll head over now.”
“Alright,” Bernie replied without hesitation.
.
.
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