Chapter 52 Radiant Smile
Elizabeth pulled open the car door and slid into the passenger seat.
Uriah started the engine. "Miss Sutter and Mr. Robinson look like they belong together."
Elizabeth's gaze lingered in the rearview mirror on the villa that was shrinking into the distance. Her eyes grew faintly red. "They do," she said quietly.
If two people were to remain together, they needed to be well suited to each other.
Once the painting was delivered, she needed to call Yosef to confirm.
On the other end, Yosef's voice came through uneven, breathless.
Elizabeth paused, lips tightening. "Sorry for interrupting. The painting's been delivered."
Yosef told the woman on his lap to stop, his voice hoarse. "Good. I won't be in the office tomorrow morning."
"Alright." Elizabeth ended the call.
Working as Yosef's secretary wasn't exactly grueling.
Later that night, Mabel dragged Elizabeth out to karaoke.
They wore cropped tops that bared their midriffs and tiny shorts, booked a private room, and lost themselves in the pounding beat—heads tossing, hips swaying, voices spilling into song.
Mabel popped open a beer, poured them each a glass. "Elizabeth, you sound amazing singing this one."
Elizabeth smirked, half-joking, half-serious. "I know. I think so too."
The song was one of her own compositions, written under her pen name Yvonne. Every note and lyric was etched into her mind.
"Timothy's been spending a lot of time with Emma lately," Mabel said, glancing at her.
Last time Timothy had dropped off a drunken Elizabeth, Mabel couldn't help wondering.
Elizabeth took a sip of beer, shot her a sidelong look. "Miss Sutter's a good match for him."
Mabel saw the sincerity in her tone and smiled. "Shall we keep singing?"
They clinked glasses, drank, and grabbed the microphones again.
Elizabeth's phone lit up, went dark, then lit again. She was too caught up singing to notice.
On the other end, Sherry hung up in frustration and typed out a message: [Elizabeth, stop hovering around Armando like a fly. You're disgusting.]
When Elizabeth and Mabel finally collapsed onto the couch to rest, she saw Sherry's text. She stared at it, a faint smile curling her lips.
Elizabeth: [Who are you? Miss Scott, is it?]
Sherry had registered the number under a false name—careful, always careful. In her line of work, she couldn't afford Elizabeth stabbing her in the back.
Elizabeth's feigned ignorance only stoked Sherry's irritation.
Sherry: [Don't think I can't deal with you. Watch yourself.]
Sherry had plenty of ways to deal with her.
Sherry tucked her phone away, masking her temper with a bright smile just as Della knocked. "Sherry, the event's about to start."
"Coming." Sherry's face lit up.
Elizabeth's lips curved higher. If Sherry was telling her to watch herself, she was rattled… and rattled people made mistakes.
"Mabel, another round?"
"Absolutely!"
They sang until their voices were raw.
By the time Elizabeth got home in the early hours, she showered, sat cross-legged on her bed, and sent Armando a message.
Elizabeth: [I think I just remembered something about you. You used to work so hard you'd flare up your stomach condition. Back then, I learned to cook just to take care of you. Is that true?]
"Sherry, I hope you're watching. Don't disappoint me," she murmured.
Armando was still in his study, pressing a hand to his aching stomach. He frowned at her text, remembering the nights Elizabeth had gone straight from work to cooking classes, rain or shine.
Armando: [Yes.]
Elizabeth sent back a smiling emoji.
Elizabeth: [Looks like my memory's coming back. Thank you.]
The next morning, she made oatmeal porridge—gentle on the stomach.
She rinsed millet, added oats, and set them to boil. While they simmered, she dressed and did her makeup.
By the time she came back to the kitchen, the porridge was ready. She packed most of it into a thermos and left a bowl in the pot for Mabel.
On her way out, she called Tom.
Tom thought something urgent had happened, but she only asked him to deliver the porridge to Armando. "Tom, ask Mr. Johnson if it tastes like when I used to cook for him. I'm trying to recover my memories."
Back in Emerald Park, she'd made him breakfast every morning—oatmeal porridge was one of her staples.
Tom glanced at Armando in the back seat. "Alright."
"Thanks."
Tom hung up and relayed her words. Armando was silent for a moment. "Alright."
Elizabeth handed the thermos to Tom downstairs at the Johnson Group before driving to TechStrong.
Tom carried it into Armando's office, finding him at the window.
"Take it and eat," Armando said coolly, loosening his tie.
Tom thought of Elizabeth's radiant smile and felt a pang of pity. "Alright."
Yosef walked in just as Elizabeth was tidying the ashtray on his desk.
"Morning, Elizabeth."
"Morning, Mr. Sutter."
She was about to make coffee when the door burst open and Matthew strode in. "Yosef, Timothy's been hurt."
Elizabeth's hand stilled on the doorknob. She stepped out to make coffee.
She was still thinking about Timothy's injury.
When she returned with two cups, Matthew was leaving. He glanced at her. "Elizabeth, I'm canceling my afternoon schedule."
"Understood."
The morning passed in a blur. At lunch, Elizabeth toyed with her food, barely eating.
By mid-afternoon, Mabel called, grumbling. "Emma's unbelievable. She could've asked a servant, but instead she climbed a ladder herself, fell, and didn't get hurt—while Timothy injured himself saving her."
Elizabeth's lashes fluttered. "So it was a rescue? A bit of heroics?"
Mabel peered into the hospital room. Timothy was inside, still taking work calls. "He's fine. Just a hand injury. Needs rest."
"Good. I'm glad."
Elizabeth hung up, her smile brightening.
Sherry received a photo—Elizabeth at the Johnson Group entrance, handing Tom a thermos.
Whatever was inside wasn't meant for Tom. It had to be for Armando.
Sherry tore up the photo, pulled out her phone. "What's the update on the orphanage investigation?"
"It's been a while. We've only found fragments."
"I'll pay more. Get me the full story fast."