CHAPTER 5: CHAPTER 5: IRRELEVANT PEOPLE, MISS YOU NEEDN’T MIND

"Jesse, did you have fun at kindergarten today?"

"Yes, I did."

The little girl next to her was obedient and clever, her voice sweeter than honey.

Dressed in a beautiful pink princess dress, her naturally curly hair draped over her shoulders, and her diamond hairpin dazzling under the sunlight.

Jean Ellison was stunned as she looked at the person ahead, suddenly opened the car door, ignored Vic’s attempt to stop her, and ran over.

"Cousin."

She stood behind Jules Ellison.

Jules stopped in her tracks, tightened her grip on the little girl’s hand, and slowly turned around, with not a trace of a smile on her face.

"What are you doing here?"

She protected the child next to her with both hands, and signaled to the nanny to take the child away first.

Jean opened her mouth, her gaze falling on Jesse, her eyes reddening, but she couldn’t utter a single word, and could only watch helplessly as the nanny took the child away.

Jesse looked back every few steps at her, her large, grape-like eyes revealing unfamiliarity.

"Auntie, who was that?"

The nanny pulled her along quickly, saying as they walked, "Someone irrelevant, Miss needn’t pay attention."

Jean choked, her hot tears falling from her sharp chin as she looked pleadingly at Jules.

"Just let me say something to Jesse."

Last time the housekeeper had thrown her out, and this time she didn’t expect her cousin to give her daughter back to her, she just hoped her cousin would let her talk to her daughter.

Jules was resolute, her eyes avoiding Jean’s, her tone cold: "Don’t harbor illusions, Jesse is a young lady who grew up pampered and cherished, she will never know she has a mother who went to prison."

Jean felt a bitterness welling up, reddening her eyes terrifyingly.

When Jules took Jesse away, she hadn’t said that, she only said she was helping to raise the daughter, and she’d give her back once she was out of prison.

Now she’s going back on her word.

"I didn’t do those things... I was used by someone."

Jean’s eyelashes trembled constantly, large teardrops hitting the ground with force, her face pale and flushed red from lack of breath.

"Blame yourself for being foolish, you can’t blame others, everyone knows you’re a fraudster, spent four years in prison, what good is it if I believe you, recognizing you will only cause Jesse suffering, do you want your daughter to be discriminated against all her life?"

"No matter what you say, I won’t give Jesse back to you."

Jean closed her eyes in despair, her tone flat: "Then we’ll see each other in court, I won’t give up."

Jules snorted derisively: "Overestimating yourself."

She turned and left, leaving Jean alone on the crosswalk, her ears filled with the sharp honking of cars.

Jean seemed not to hear, she looked up at the sky, feeling dizzy, her legs giving out as she fainted onto the road without warning.

In the Bentley, Jules leaned back in her seat with her eyes closed, looking a little irritable.

Jesse was next to her, her skin pink and delicate like a strawberry-filled mochi, well-behaved and without any fuss.

Suddenly, a small hand tugged at the hem of her clothes, the voice soft and gentle: "Mom, who was that auntie?"

Jules opened her eyes abruptly, her emotions agitated, and shouted: "She’s no one, don’t ask again."

She grasped the little girl’s arm forcefully, causing the girl to pull back in pain.

"Hurts... Jesse hurts."

Jules quickly let go and hugged her, apologizing: "It’s mommy’s fault, I hurt you."

Jesse allowed herself to be held, shook her head, and said seriously like a small adult: "I don’t blame mommy."

A smile appeared on her face, surrounded by a glow of maternal love.

"Last week, the dress you liked at the Lyria show, mommy bought the entire series, and it’s been sent to our home."

"Tomorrow, when we visit grandpa and grandma, Jesse must wear it, grandma was a designer for this brand when she was young, she will definitely like Jesse more when she sees you in this dress."

Jesse nodded obediently, lowered her head, and said nothing more.

Though she was only four years old, she could sense that no one in the family liked her except for her mother, yet her mother always wanted her to please those adults.

She thought again of the beautiful auntie she met on the road, feeling inexplicably sad.

Keystone Law.

Located in the busiest part of Kingswell City, surrounded by well-known listed companies.

The firm occupied an entire skyscraper in a place where every inch of land was expensive; this building belonged to Justin Holden and his partner Samual Pryce, with the firm’s English acronym and icon displayed downstairs.

The top fifty-seventh floor was where he frequently worked.

Samual Pryce returned to the office after a court session to discuss a case with him, and when he opened the office door, he was almost overwhelmed by the heat.

"Are you having a sauna alone in here?"

A familiar and teasing tone.

The August heat hadn’t dissipated, and Justin Holden had lit up a marble fireplace in his office alone.

How odd.

Samual Pryce leaned in for a look, his smile instantly vanishing.

The fireplace crackled with flames, and a thick stack of photos was burning into ashes in the woodpile.

"Isn’t that..."

He pointed at the half-burned photo, stopped mid-sentence, and turned to look at the man sitting upright at the desk.

They had been college roommates, so naturally, he also knew Timothy Caldwell, Director Caldwell.

"Hmm." Justin responded softly.

Samual Pryce poured himself a cup of coffee, carried the cup over to him, and casually asked, "You’re not planning to reopen an old case, are you?"

"No." Justin’s answer was straightforward as he focused on the literature on his computer.

Samual Pryce nodded in agreement, sipped his coffee, and continued: "Exactly, it’s been so long, who would care now."

"One thousand four hundred sixty-two days."

Justin’s hands paused on the keyboard, his long fingers curling slightly, the fingertips trembling involuntarily.

Samual Pryce’s hands shook, almost spilling coffee from the cup.

He looked at Justin in astonishment, set the coffee cup steadily on the table, swallowed, and asked him softly, "You’re not still thinking about Claire, are you? She’s already gone..."

Justin closed his laptop, his hands naturally crossed on the desk, looking up at him, his tone flat: "You misunderstood, it’s just that I recently encountered a woman very much like her, my client."

Samual Pryce furrowed his eyebrows, hesitated for a moment, and then spoke: "I just remembered, I heard something at today’s court session, would you be interested?"

Justin thought he was off-topic, uninterested in gossip, grabbed the suit jacket draped over his chair, and prepared to leave for home.

"I don’t have time."

"It’s related to Claire." Samual Pryce quickly added.

Justin stood at the door, gripping the doorknob tightly, his knuckles turning white.

He released his hand, stopped, and slowly turned around, his suit jacket neatly draped over his elbow.

He looked at Samual Pryce, silent.