Madly Yours (Nora Reed) novel Chapter 599

Finnian Fairchild's Adam's apple bobbed.

Somehow, an image slowly surfaced in his mind—a beautiful, spirited little girl smiling at him with bright eyes, sweetly calling him by his name...

Nathaniel Bullock noticed his dazed expression and nervously rubbed his hands together. "Mr. Fairchild..."

Finnian finally snapped out of it and took a deep breath. "Did she... say anything at the time?"

"She... she handed me the bracelet and said she wanted to pawn it for some cash. I asked her where her parents were, but she refused to say much. She only insisted the bracelet was hers... When I pressed her with a couple more questions, she looked like she was about to cry. My heart softened, so I gave her a pawn ticket, thinking that if her parents came looking for her later, they could at least redeem it..."

"And she... never came back?"

Nathaniel pressed his lips together. "She definitely didn't. Otherwise, this bracelet wouldn't have ended up out there..."

And eventually in Finnian's hands...

Finnian didn't speak for a long time.

For a moment, the private room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Finnian finally closed the ledger and looked up at Nathaniel.

"Mr. Bullock, I've arranged for a sketch artist in the next room. I'd appreciate it if you could cooperate and help us recreate what that girl looked like."

"Yes, of course, no problem!" Nathaniel nodded repeatedly and followed Arthur out the door.

The door clicked shut behind them, and the room descended into silence once more.

Finnian lowered his gaze, his fingertips gently tracing the curled leather edges of the ledger. After a long while, he murmured softly, "Evie, where exactly are you..."

...

Meanwhile, in the adjacent room, Nathaniel was already sitting across from the sketch artist.

The artist flipped open his sketchbook and twirled a pencil between his fingers. "Go ahead. Take your time, there's no rush."

Nathaniel narrowed his eyes, resting his clasped hands on his knees, and began to gesture in the air. "That kid... her eyes were exceptionally large. Round and bright, like two dark grapes..."

As he spoke, he used his thumb and index finger to form a rough shape. "She had a small face with a pointed chin, and when she smiled, she had two shallow dimples... Oh, the left one was a bit deeper than the right."

The artist kept his head down, the charcoal pencil moving rapidly across the paper, layering lines one after another—from the contour to the facial features, from light and shadow to her expression.

About twenty minutes later, he stopped drawing, turned the sketchbook around, and showed it to Nathaniel. "Take a look. Is this her?"

Nathaniel leaned in for a closer look, stunned for a second, then nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes, yes! That's her! You're a genius, man!"

Arthur couldn't help but glance over, and with just that one look, his brows furrowed slightly.

For some reason, he found the face inexplicably familiar.

But for the life of him, he couldn't recall where he had seen it before.

"Well..."

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