Chapter 10
“Logan, I told you, you shouldn’t have been so kind to her. How could someone like that actually care about you?”
James was about to go on when Logan shot him a glance.
He went silent immediately.
After hearing the location of the tombstone, the cemetery manager gave them a strange look.
“You might be mistaken. The person you’re talking about was buried here a few days ago.” Logan frowned.
“Impossible. This is the spot. I wouldn’t have remembered it wrong. The deposit was already paid. The name on the grave was Walker. You gave it to someone else without authorization? Do you want to keep your job?”
Logan’s quiet nobility came with a pressure that made people tremble. At this moment, there was a cold anger in his tone that made the manager flinch.
The manager quickly pulled out the contract ledger and flipped through the pages, explaining as he went.
“Yes, when the deposit was made, the name was indeed listed as Walker. But when the final payment was processed, the lady changed the grave owner’s name. Our policy allows for changes-”
Logan’s eyes darkened.
“Changed?”
“Yes, the new name is-”
Before the manager could finish, James exclaimed beside him.
“You’ve got to be kidding! That’s disgusting. She sold the plot?”
“Logan, I told you she didn’t care. She ditched you the second she got the chance.”
“She didn’t even show up to the funeral. She sold the grave! What kind of cruel woman does that? And you gave her fifty million dollars!”
James’s words stabbed deep, twisting in Logan’s chest.
His gaze grew cold. He still didn’t believe me would do that.
He told the driver to turn the car around and head for the old, broken–down house.
The alley was narrow and cramped. The Maybach couldn’t drive through.
Logan walked a long distance before he found the elderly landlady.
“Oh, you’re asking about Miss Emily…”
She thought for a moment.
“She gave up the lease a few days ago. I think she sold a few of her things. Before she left, she gave me extra money and thanked me for the trouble. I don’t know where she went.
Chapter Q
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06:52 Tue,
Took just a few clothes and left.”
Logan stared at the empty, darkened room.
Something inside him felt hollow.
The insurance company called.
They said I had been delayed in signing the papers.
Logan frowned. “Could it be… she really didn’t want the money? Had she left the city alone?”
He took the driver’s phone and dialled the number he knew by heart.
It rang.
But there was a delay before it connected.
And faintly, from somewhere at the far end of the alley, he heard a ringtone.
Logan stopped cold.
His footsteps moved involuntarily toward the sound.
Mr. Hudson answered the phone, but no one responded. He finally stepped outside to check the signal. That’s when he turned and saw the man standing there–so composed and distinguished, like he belonged in another world.
He froze.
“Sir, who are you looking for?”
Logan pointed to the phone.
“Whose phone is that?”
“A customer’s,” Mr. Hudson replied. “She asked me to sell some of her things and donate the money to charity.”
“A customer?”
Logan stood frozen, lifting his eyes toward the name of the store–Mr. Hudson’s Funeral.
Funeral?
“Yeah, a customer,” Mr. Hudson replied. “I buried her two days ago. Out at the cemetery on
the outskirts.”
The phone was an old model. The case was faded and scratched, the screen cracked in a few places.
It was my phone.
Logan’s pupils trembled.
He couldn’t believe it.
He couldn’t accept the connection between me and the word “buried.”
There had to be a mistake.
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