By the time he walked out of Southpoint Manor, the rain had stopped.
The wet pavement gleamed, looking like a layer of cold mercury under the headlights. Lawrence stood under the awning, not immediately getting into the car.
Margaret's words still echoed in his ears.
"Don't look back."
She wasn't talking to him.
She was talking to Wren.
Growing up, he was used to the Langfords taking his side. No matter what he did wrong, Eleanor would say it was inevitable for men socializing outside, the staff would claim his wife was just being too sensitive, and his friends would joke that marriage was just living separate lives anyway. Even he had long believed that the position of Mrs. Langford was a dignity he bestowed upon Wren.
But today, the very elder who should have upheld the Langford family's pride had pushed Wren away right in front of him.
Lawrence looked down and lit a cigarette.
The moment the flame flared, he noticed his fingertips trembling slightly.
Things had derailed from their original track.
Xavier had been waiting by the car for a long time before finally offering a low reminder. "Boss, you have a video conference at eight."
Lawrence took a drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke roll down his throat before speaking. "Look into Vivian Vance."
Xavier paused. "Ms. Whitaker's mother?"
Lawrence's eyes turned icy. "Find out her connection to the old Langford Medical equipment project."
Xavier didn't dare ask any more questions, simply replying, "Understood."
Lawrence crushed the cigarette and pulled open the car door.
As the door clicked shut, he remembered the look in Wren's eyes before she left.
There was no grievance, no argument, not even hatred.
It was as if a lamp had finally been removed from his room, taking even its lingering warmth with it.
His phone rang right then.
"Ms. Miller" flashed on the screen.
Lawrence furrowed his brow.


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