The Man Who Never Looked Away novel Chapter 122

"Grandma only said those harsh things because Saul stirred up trouble. Don't take it to heart," Garnett comforted her softly. "Don't worry. I'll find a chance to talk to her properly."

Looking even more aggrieved, Sigrid rested her head on his shoulder. "Why is Saul like this? He's still holding a grudge over that high school drama. Every time he sees us, it's like he gets triggered all over again."

Love me, love my dog—but the reverse was also true: hate me, hate everything associated with me. She knew she couldn't badmouth Lavinia just yet—it would ruin her gentle persona—but taking shots at Saul was fair game.

Sure enough, Garnett's jaw tightened. "He's nothing but the heir to some tiny factory. I could bankrupt him with the snap of a finger."

"I know I probably shouldn't say this, but Lavinia is so naive and kind, and Saul has a massive prejudice against you. You need to remind her not to let Saul get his hands on that trust money."

Garnett's eyes darkened, and his hand, resting on his knee, slowly curled into a fist.

***

After her exams, Lavinia felt pretty good. She estimated her score would be just enough to pass the threshold.

Charley crossed his arms with a slight smile. "To reward you for all your hard work lately, I'm taking you somewhere nice."

"Where?" Lavinia asked.

"You'll see when we get there."

He drove her to the historic district, winding through an old neighborhood flanked by traditional, weathered row houses.

It felt as though someone had pressed pause on time itself.

Charley parked in front of a renovated two-and-a-half-story detached home. "We're here."

It had pristine white walls, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a rooftop viewing deck. Pushing open the gate, they stepped into a tiny courtyard dominated by an ancient fig tree heavy with green fruit.

"By the time you move in, the figs should be ripe," Charley smiled.

"Move in?" Lavinia froze.

"Didn't you want to hide away somewhere quiet? This place is perfect," he said simply.

"How much did Mr. Jennings pay for this place?" Lavinia asked.

"A million or so."

"That cheap?"

"Old houses in the historic district go for about that much." He looked at her. "Do you want to buy it?"

Lavinia nodded. This house triggered so many memories. It felt just like the childhood home she'd shared with her parents.

"I want a place of my own. Something small." She leaned against the railing, watching the distant hum of daily life. "Once I get a job and save up enough, I want to buy this house."

It was time she had a home of her own.

"I'll tell Jimmie to give you a discount when the time comes," Charley said.