Chapter 12
Edith had barely set foot in the Sumner household before her phone buzzed with a message from Salome–an intimate photo, the kind that twisted a knife she’d thought had already dulled.
Jayne took Edith’s suitcase, her eyes flickering with concern as she caught the frown on her daughter’s face. “Edith, sweetheart, what’s wrong? Still thinking about Beckett?” Jayne’s voice was gentle, trying to coax out the truth. “I know the Hawksleys are pressing for an answer, but I won’t force you. We can talk about it when you’re truly ready.”
Edith glanced at her phone, her face unreadable. With a few swift taps, she deleted the chat and slipped her phone away. She managed a small, reassuring smile for her mother. “Mom, I really am over it. The past is past–what matters is the living. We can go ahead and start arranging things with the Hawksleys.”
Jayne had heard Edith say as much over the phone, but hearing it in person left her momentarily stunned. Still, she knew her daughter well enough to trust she wasn’t pretending.
Relief softened Jayne’s face. She gave Edith’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You’re right, darling. The past is gone, and we’re the ones who matter now. Once your father’s situation is sorted, we’ll handle the Hawksley arrangements.”
Edith’s smile grew easier, her eyes crinkling at the corners. Only back at the Sumner home did she finally feel the tension slip from her shoulders. She hadn’t slept well for days; tonight, she was determined to catch up.
The next morning, Edith woke to the sound of excited knocking.
Jayne burst in, barely able to contain herself. “Edith! Your father’s case was just picked up by Attorney Grant! We’re as good as saved!”
Edith, still tangled in sleep, wondered for a moment if she was dreaming. When Jayne sat on the edge of her bed and shook her arm, the truth finally sank in.
Rubbing her eyes, Edith asked, “Attorney Grant? You mean the Attorney Grant from Northcrest? The famous one?”
Because of Kearney’s involvement in the hospital corruption scandal, Edith had followed every development closely. She remembered clearly: Attorney Grant wasn’t the sort of lawyer you could hire just by waving money around. You needed
connections–serious ones.
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Half–awake now, Edith frowned in disbelief. “The Vance family managed to get Attorney Grant?”
Last time, the Vances had promised to help with Kearney’s case because of Dr. White. Edith had assumed it would take them weeks, if not longer.
But Jayne shook her head. “No, it was Justin Hawksley who arranged it.”
The name didn’t immediately ring a bell. Edith searched her memory, piecing it together. “Justin… from the Hawksley family?”
Jayne nodded, her admiration for Justin shining through. It wasn’t about the Hawksleys‘ influence–Kearney’s troubles had haunted the Sumner family for months. Jayne hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since it happened, and now, at last, there was hope.
Jayne needed to visit the law office that day, but Edith was already climbing out of bed. “Mom, I’ll come with you.”
Jayne shook her head. “Today’s Justin’s birthday. I was going to stop by the Hawksleys‘ myself, but I need to go to the attorneys first. I’ve already picked out a gift–why don’t you take it over and thank them in person?”
Edith had no reason to refuse. Before heading to the Hawksleys‘, she made a detour to the city mall. Jayne’s gift was well chosen, but since she was delivering it herself–and since the Hawksleys had done so much to help–Edith wanted to add a personal touch.
She picked out a bottle of men’s cologne, a blend of cedarwood and pine with a trace of grapefruit–a crisp, distinctive scent she thought he’d appreciate.
At the Hawksley estate, Edith felt the nerves she’d kept at bay all morning. It was her first time meeting Justin. The house was brimming with guests–family elders, local society figures, all there to celebrate. The place hummed with laughter and
conversation.
h
Edith stepped through the gates, immediately swallowed by the crowd. It had been twenty years since she’d seen anyone from the Hawksley family, and she couldn’t remember a single face. Clutching her gifts, she wove through the guests, scanning for someone familiar.
She tried asking for help, but everyone was wrapped up in animated conversations, clustered in tight groups. Her voice, small and hesitant, was lost in the din.
Eventually, she was nudged into a quiet corner–where two elegantly dressed young women were deep in conversation.
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Edith approached, hoping to ask for directions, but their voices carried.
“Did you hear? Justin’s marrying a divorcée–one who can’t even have kids, apparently.”
The other woman smirked, her tone dripping with disdain. “A twice–married woman who’s barren? As if she’s any competition for the rest of us.”
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