CHAPTER 81: CHAPTER 81: YVONNE STERLING’S ABNORMALITY

During the three-day May Day holiday, Clara stayed in Crestwood for an extra day after attending a class reunion to spend time with Sophie Sheffield, only returning to Veridian on the last day of the break.

Silas Sheffield had some business to handle at the Crestwood headquarters and mentioned he would head back to Veridian after a few days.

Upon landing in Veridian, the driver Linton came to pick up Clara.

Before boarding the plane, Clara specifically called Ms. Cheney, the housekeeper, saying she would return to Crestwood in the afternoon to visit her mother in the hospital and asked Ms. Cheney to prepare a pot of black chicken soup along with some light nutritious meals.

The driver brought along a thermal container, and Clara carried it to the hospital.

"Mom, I’m back." Clara placed the thermal container on the table and gently hugged Yvonne Sterling at the bedside.

After chemotherapy, Yvonne Sterling’s hair had almost all fallen out. She wore a hat that Clara had knitted by hand. Her spirits were much better than before, but she still appeared frail and emaciated, causing an ache in Clara’s heart as she held her mother.

Yvonne asked softly, "Clara, how was the class reunion? No one bullied you, right?"

Clara shook her head, a faint smile appearing on her lips, "No, Silas went with me."

Yvonne sighed in relief, "Then I’m reassured."

After dinner, it was just past six o’clock.

It was dusk, with the sunset providing a perfect backdrop.

Looking at the orange sunset through the window, Yvonne said, "Clara, accompany your mom for a walk downstairs."

"Alright."

Clara put away the thermal container and supported Yvonne into the elevator.

Yvonne remarked, "It’s been a while since I’ve been outside to get some fresh air. It had been raining the past few days, and today it finally cleared up."

Clara smiled, "We’ll be able to process the discharge tomorrow."

As the elevator doors opened and Yvonne smiled, ready to say something, her smile suddenly froze, her face turning pale.

Clara didn’t notice her mother’s expression and continued holding her arm as they walked out.

Yvonne’s whole body was tense.

She stopped and grabbed Clara’s hand, saying, "Clara, I’m not feeling well. Let’s go back to the room."

Clara looked over with concern, "Mom, why do you look so unwell?"

"Let’s go back." Yvonne turned around with Clara and pressed the elevator button with her head down.

The elevator they just left had gone up already.

Now they had to stand by the elevator doors and wait.

Yvonne kept her head down, standing beside Clara as if she was hiding from someone.

Noticing her strange behavior, Clara looked around, not finding anything unusual, and turned back to Yvonne, "Mom, why are you acting weird?"

Yvonne hesitated, "It’s nothing, just not feeling well."

Clara frowned, sensing that it wasn’t that simple.

At this moment, the elevator doors opened.

Yvonne hastily walked into the elevator, and Clara followed her in.

The elevator doors slowly closed, and only then did Yvonne finally relax.

Not far away.

A middle-aged man, dressed in a suit, tall and lean, walked by.

He was around six feet tall, slender and thin.

Seeming to sense something, the man turned his head.

Just as he turned his head to look over, the elevator doors closed.

Back in the hospital room, Clara was very worried about Yvonne.

"Mom, your face looks terrible. I’m going to call the doctor."

Yvonne held Clara’s wrist to stop her, "It’s nothing, I’ll be fine after lying down and resting for a bit."

"Your expression was very strange just now, did you..." Clara paused, "Did you see someone?"

"No." Yvonne lay down on the hospital bed, "Clara, you came to the hospital to see me as soon as you returned from Crestwood, without going home first, right? You must be tired, go home and have a good rest, don’t you have work tomorrow?"

Seeing that her mother didn’t want to say more, Clara didn’t press further.

"Alright, I’ll head back now. I’ll come to handle the discharge for you tomorrow."

Yvonne seemed distracted, "Okay."

After her daughter left, Yvonne leaned pale-faced against the bed, feeling deeply unsettled.

How could he possibly show up here?

...

At night, Clara took a bath and went to Silas Sheffield’s room.

On the dark gray bed, her fair and slender figure stood out.

Clara wore a nightgown and sat on Silas’s bed, making a video call to him.

"Are you still busy?"

Silas’s deep eyes looked into the camera, as if staring directly at Clara through the phone.

Whenever the man looked at Clara, his eyes were always gentle, "Just finished a meeting."

Clara felt a bit of pity for him.

"You just finished at such a late hour, it must have been tiring."

"I’m trying to finish up things here soon so I can go to Veridian to be with you."

Silas leaned back in his office chair, the buttons of his black shirt done up to the top, with his gold-rimmed glasses reflecting an icy light, making him appear refined yet restrained.

Only Clara knew how wild he could be beneath his refined and restrained appearance.

Recalling fragmented memories from the previous evening, Clara felt a weakness in her body, her cheeks reddening.

Seeing her lying on his bed, looking like that, Silas’s eyes darkened.

"Baby." His voice was dark and magnetic, "Do you miss me?"

Clara pressed her lips together, "I do."

The man’s dark eyes were shadowed with desire, "Sleeping in my bed tonight?"

"Yes." Clara was straightforward, "It smells like you here, I sleep better."

Silas smiled broadly, the corners of his eyes and brows filled with amusement, "Wait for me to come back to sleep with you."

Clara nodded obediently, "Okay."

That night, Clara slept soundly, her head resting on Silas’s pillow and covered by his quilt, without any dreams.

With the May Day holiday over, Clara resumed her usual work routine.

During lunchtime at the company cafeteria, Anabelle Spencer approached enthusiastically and sat opposite Clara and Lisa Holloway.

During the meal, Anabelle proactively engaged them in conversation.

After chatting briefly, Anabelle inquired about Clara’s family situation.

"Clara, are you an only child? Do you have any siblings?"

Clara shook her head, "No, I’m an only child."

Anabelle then asked, "Are both your parents from Crestwood?"

"I don’t have a father." Clara replied expressionlessly, "I’m from a single-parent family."

Rather than appearing apologetic upon hearing this, a peculiar glint of delight flashed across Anabelle’s face.

Anabelle looked at Clara with a complicated expression, seemingly hesitant to speak.

Clara had long found Anabelle’s behavior odd.

Seeing her hesitance, Clara asked, "What do you want to say?"

Anabelle pressed her lips together, appearing to carefully consider her words.

After a long moment, she finally asked, "Although it’s quite presumptuous to ask, I still want to know—did your father... pass away, or did he and your mother just divorce?"

"That is indeed nosy of you." Lisa Holloway said with a twist of her lips, "I wanted to mention it last meal. Why are you so concerned about Clara’s family matters?"

Clara remained composed, her gaze fixed on Anabelle’s face.

On a closer look, Clara noticed that Anabelle’s eyes were quite similar to her own.

But it was just the eyes; the nose, lips, and face shape were different.

Clara’s voice was calm, giving away nothing of her emotions, "Why are you asking these questions?"