The Man Who Never Looked Away novel Chapter 212

"Judith's birthday is coming up, and I'm trying to figure out what to get her," Lavinia sighed. "I've been looking everywhere, but nothing feels right. In previous years, I made her something myself, but work has been way too crazy this year. I don't have the time."

"What does she like to do? Any hobbies?" he asked, watching her closely.

"She loves flower arranging, playing cards with her friends, and meditating at home."

"Why not give her a set of meditation beads? I have some raw wood at home. You can pick out a nice piece, and I'll have it turned into beads. It only takes a day," Charley said warmly.

Meditation beads were a thoughtful gesture and perfectly suited the older woman's tastes. Lavinia's face lit up. "That's a fantastic idea! Take me to see this collection of yours."

Abandoning their shopping, the two drove straight back to Charley's house.

Charley unlocked the basement and let Lavinia step inside to look around.

The air was thick with a deep, earthy scent of wood—the exact same aroma that always clung to Charley.

All four walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling wooden racks. They held nothing else but blocks of wood, neatly stacked like books in a library.

Beside each block was a tiny label detailing its origin, species, and age. Some had been polished smooth, while others were still in their raw, natural state, bark and all.

"Where did you find all these?" Lavinia asked.

"I collected them from primeval forests in South America and Southeast Asia."

"For free?"

"For free."

Lavinia had seen Garnett's collections before—watches, fine wine, art pieces. Everything came with a steep price tag.

But Charley's collection was just this. Priceless, quiet wood resting peacefully in his basement.

"Come here," he said.

Lavinia walked over. He picked up a piece of wood and placed it in her palm. It was surprisingly heavy.

The surface was smooth, the grain dense and intricate, resembling mountain ridges and flowing rivers.

"This is green sandalwood," he explained. "It turns green when exposed to light. The older it gets, the darker it becomes."

He picked up another piece. "This is mountain cypress. It grows on cliffs for hundreds of years. The natural scent relieves stress."

He placed the blocks of wood into her hands one by one, leaving Lavinia completely dazzled.

"Which one would be best for meditation beads?" she asked.

Charley reached up and took a piece of wood from the highest shelf.

It was intensely dark, almost black, but when held up to the light, faint threads of gold shimmered within the grain.

The shadows between the racks slowly crept closer.

Lavinia's breathing hitched. When she was twelve, the boat had sunk. She had thrashed in the pitch-black ocean water, unable to tell which way was up or down.

Charley turned on his phone's flashlight. The stark white light spilled from his palm, falling between the two of them.

Lavinia realized her back was pressed against the wooden shelves. His arms were resting on either side of her—not touching her, but close. Very close.

His eyes were fixed on her face, the light casting upward from below. His sharp features were buried in a pool of soft shadows, making his expression hard to read.

"When the day comes, I'll go keep you company," his voice was incredibly low.

Lavinia was stunned. "How are you going to get in?"

He didn't answer.

The sensor caught their movement, and the overhead lights slowly brightened again.

Charley pulled his hands back, turned around, and grabbed the wrapped package of wood from the shelf.

"You'll find out when the time comes. Let's go."

He placed a steadying hand on her and guided her safely out of the basement.