Chapter 3
The reply from the Bennett Family arrived that evening.
It wasn't a butler or a secretary who came. It was Evelyn Bennett, Lucas's aunt.
She wore a simple, tailored silk dress in soft neutral tones. She didn't sit down after entering, just set a handwritten letter on the table.
"Miss Grant," she said, "my nephew says he will see you."
My father relaxed slightly.
"Mr. Bennett is willing to meet her?" he asked.
Evelyn looked at me.
"Not willing. He's been waiting a very long time," Evelyn said.
My father froze.
I lowered my eyes and opened the letter.
There was only one line inside.
9 a.m. tomorrow. North Mountain Sanatorium.
The handwriting was thin and sharp, but steady.
Evelyn said, "Lucas's legs don't allow him to come calling in person. If that bothers you, Miss Grant, we can call off these marriage talks now."
Before I could speak, a cold laugh came from the doorway.
Ethan had come back sometime, his coat still dripping rainwater.
Ethan smirked, "Vivian, you don't waste any time, do you?"
My father frowned.
"What are you doing back here?" he asked.
Ethan set a stack of papers on the table.
"I'm here to sign the papers ending the funding and the engagement," he said.
He looked over at Evelyn as he spoke.
"The Bennetts actually trust her? She dumped me today. She'll dump Lucas just as fast tomorrow." Ethan said.
Evelyn lifted a hand to adjust the jade bracelet on her wrist.
"Mr. Shaw, and what position gives you the right to warn the Bennett Family?" she asked.
Ethan was caught off guard, speechless.
Claire followed behind him, speaking softly. "Ethan's just worried Mr. Bennett will get hurt. Vivian can be impulse. Sometimes she acts without thinking about how other people feel."
Evelyn finally glanced her way.
"And you are?" Evelyn asked.
A flicker of embarrassment crossed Claire's face.
"I'm Claire Hughes. I lived with the Grants for a few years," she replied.
Evelyn nodded.
"A house-guest, then," she said.
Those words landed like a slap.
Tears welled up in Claire's eyes again.
Ethan immediately stepped in front of her.
"Ms. Bennett, there is no need to be cruel to a young girl." Ethan said.
Evelyn replied, "I'm simply distinguishing between host and guest."
I couldn't help but glance at her.
She gave me a small nod, as if to say, don't mention it.
Ethan signed the papers through gritted teeth.
The tip of his pen tore through the paper.
My father looked over the agreement.
"Starting today, the Grant Family will provide you no further resources. The apartment, car, and scholarship we arranged for you will all be taken back. If you run into trouble, you may apply for a standard loan," he said.
Ethan's face darkened.
"Mr. Richard, do you have to be this harsh?" he asked.
My father's voice was flat.
"You said the Grant Family uses kindness to pressure people. So starting today, we're cutting all ties. No more kindness, no more pressure," he said.
Claire panicked.
"Mr. Richard, Ethan just started his studio. He needs money for everything. How will he manage like this?" she said.
My father looked at her.
"Didn't he hated taking the Grant Family's money?" he replied.
Claire had no reply.
Ethan pushed the papers back across the table.
"Fine. I do not want any of it," Ethan said.
He pulled Claire toward the door.
He paused at the threshold.
"Vivian, when I make it on my own, don't come crawling back to me," he said.
I replied, "Relax. My pride won't let me bow to you."
Evelyn let out a quiet laugh.
Ethan's back stiffened, then he walked away quickly.
Evelyn waited until his footsteps faded before turning to me.
"Miss Grant, when you meet Lucas tomorrow, do not bring a crowd. He does not like noise," she said.
My father hurried to say, "I'll go with her."
Evelyn shook her head.
"Lucas will only see her," she said.
My father looked at me, troubled.
I folded the letter shut.
"I'll go alone," I said.
Right before she left, Evelyn added, "Lucas heard you called off your engagement. He ate an extra half bowl of oatmeal today."
I froze.
Evelyn added another line.
"He hasn't had a proper meal in a very long time," she said.
After she left, my father asked me, "When did you and Lucas even meet?"
I stared at the letter.
I had wondered the same thing in my previous life.
How had a man who had barely crossed my path ended up cleaning up my messes after I died? How had he made Ethan stand at my grave and apologize?
But then, I had never gotten the chance to ask.
This time, I would hear it from his own lips.