Chapter 258

Clarissa Thornton had never cared much for books. Her passion lay in meticulously comparing outfits, toys, and social circles. Meanwhile, Vivian Hartley, who lived with Eleanor Sutton, couldn't afford many new clothes. Every time Clarissa flaunted a new dress, she made sure to parade it right outside Vivian's doorstep.

As years passed, Vivian pursued higher education while Clarissa remained stuck in their small town. Their lives diverged, and they grew apart. Vivian paid little attention to local gossip. After exchanging brief pleasantries, she and Adrian Blackwood headed upstairs.

Moments after they disappeared, Clarissa zoomed back on her electric scooter.

Spotting her mother outside, she rushed over excitedly. "Mom! Did you see that insane luxury car down the block? It looks straight out of a billionaire romance! That thing's gotta be worth millions!"

Her mother gave her a withering look. "Don't be ridiculous! A million-Sterling car in our neighborhood? Do you even know how much money that is? If we sold every apartment on this street, we still wouldn't come close!"

"You just don't understand," Clarissa huffed, quickly masking her irritation with a practiced smile. She resolved to wake up early tomorrow, determined to catch a glimpse of what might be a real-life Cinderella story.

Her mother tapped Clarissa's forehead playfully. "You're the same age as Vivian, yet she's already married to that tall, handsome man who brings us gifts. You always had to compete with her growing up - first with grades, now with marriage prospects. What's next? Still daydreaming at thirty?"

Noticing the gift bag in her mother's hand, Clarissa peeked inside with mild disinterest. The image of that luxury car still burned in her mind. She tossed the box back dismissively. "Just some snacks. Nothing special. When I marry my CEO, I'll be handing out diamond necklaces to the whole block."

"Have you completely lost touch with reality?" her mother scolded.

Ignoring the remark, Clarissa wheeled her scooter toward the parking shed.

Upstairs in the apartment...

Vivian pushed open the door, her tone brisk but casual. "Just set everything in the living room."

Ethan Caldwell placed the bags down, glancing around the modest space. He straightened, hesitating before speaking. "Mrs. Blackwood, let me help you tidy up."

Vivian was already moving toward the dust-covered furniture. "No need. I've got this. You should rest."

Ethan's eyes flicked uncertainly toward Adrian, who stood silently by the entrance.

"Meet me at the alley at eight tomorrow," Adrian said, his voice calm yet leaving no room for discussion.

"Yes, sir." Ethan gave a quick nod before exiting.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the apartment in silence. Dust motes danced in the late afternoon sunlight as Vivian surveyed her childhood home, acutely aware of Adrian's presence filling the small space. His expensive cologne mingled oddly with the familiar scent of old wood and lemon polish.

She moved to open a window, her back to him. "This place must seem..."

"Familiar," Adrian finished quietly. "In a good way."

Vivian turned, surprised to find him studying a faded photograph on the wall - her twelve-year-old self grinning beside Eleanor Sutton. His fingers hovered near the frame, not touching, as if afraid to disturb the memory.

For the first time since their arrival, Vivian saw something unguarded in his expression. Not the polished businessman or the dutiful grandson-in-law, but someone who understood what it meant to hold onto fragments of the past.

The moment shattered when a loud engine roared outside. Clarissa's unmistakable laughter floated up through the open window, followed by the screech of her scooter tires.

Adrian's mask slipped back into place. "We should get started if we want to finish before dark."

Vivian nodded, pushing aside the strange intimacy of that fleeting moment. There were boxes to pack, decisions to make, and a grandmother's legacy to honor. The photograph watched silently as they began their work, two very different people moving carefully around each other in the cramped apartment, each carrying secrets too heavy to name.