Chapter 585
Chapter 585:
Doris flashed a warm smile at Cristian. “Please don’t decline my invitation!”
“Count us in,” Fernanda replied, still smiling. “We’ll be there in a jiffy.”
Content, Doris climbed back down. Inside the house, the room was just as Fernanda remembered it. Furniture draped in white sheets made the place look like a ghost town at first glance.
“The room on the left belongs to Hiram, and the one on the right is mine,” Fernanda explained to Cristian as they walked through. “I bought this place after moving to Zhota. Hiram was over the moon about it, as it reminded him of the snug cottages we had in the village. When I returned there, though, the old cottage had fallen apart from neglect.”
Her fingers trailed over the furniture, stirring up dust and memories alike. She led Cristian into her bedroom, a simple setup with just a bed, a desk, and a chair. Crouching down, she pulled out several boxes from under the bed, unveiling a treasure trove of books. The pages were yellowed, the corners dogeared from frequent use. Flipping through them was like stepping back through time.
“I actually came back to the Morgans on purpose,” Fernanda confessed out of the blue. “Spotted a missing person ad online. After all these years, the Morgans are on the lookout for me again—probably got a nudge from Martin. Kind of funny when I think about it. The guy most keen on finding me isn’t even my real dad but Martin. I dropped my pin in Zhota online right after seeing the ad. Sure enough, within two days, Robert’s crew was on my doorstep.” She gestured around. “Thought about packing up all this stuff, but then I figured, what’s the point? This place, where I shared so many moments with Hiram, that’s home. So I left it all behind.”
Turning to Cristian, her eyes twinkled with mischief. “Now that I’m back with the Morgans, I just don’t fit in. Feel like a square peg in a round hole. Believe it or not, I’m more at home in my dorm at Esaham University than at the Morgans’ place.”
Cristian crouched beside Fernanda, his hand gently patting her head. “I understand,” he murmured softly. He silently vowed to create a true home for her—not just a shelter but a place where she would genuinely belong. Knowing how deeply this place could sway her emotions, Cristian felt a growing urge to move Fernanda away from here, away from the echoes of Hiram that lingered painfully in the air.
“Remember that Doris invited us to dinner?” Cristian said. “I’m starving. Let’s head over.”
Fernanda nodded in agreement. “Alright.”
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Upon their arrival, they found Doris had already set the table meticulously. Her home was bustling with guests; the feast was spread across two large tables to accommodate some visiting relatives who were staying over for the holidays in Zhota.
“Come over here and let’s eat!” Doris beckoned, ushering Fernanda to her seat and introducing the couple to the gathering. “This is our neighbor who moved to Esaham last year—a lovely, caring girl. And this is her boyfriend. They’ve just returned to visit her old home, so I insisted they join us.”
As she spoke, Doris deftly shifted a plate of fish toward Fernanda, ensuring it was within easy reach. Her son, Jensen Benton—twenty-three, fresh out of college and now interning at a local firm—was busy helping serve the food and making polite conversation with relatives.
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