Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change?

Upon hearing the question, Edgar kept his cool. “Do you usually take the bus home by. yourself?”

“Yeah, I do.” Sherilyn nodded, “I can get back on my

“Come on, get in the car.”

Spreading his arms in a welcoming gesture, Edgar insisted, “It’s late, and since I’ve run into you, there’s no reason for you to go back alone.”

Seeing Sherilyn hesitate, he teased, “Ms. Gomez, you can trust me; I’m not a bad guy.”

Sherilyn couldn’t help but laugh at his remark and finally agreed, “Alright, I’ll take you up on that offer then,”

“It’s my pleasure, truly.”

They

y drove towards the Johnson Mansion.

Sherilyn asked, “I didn’t notice at the performance, were you there with friends?”

“Not really friends,” Edgar shook his head. “I was with some business associates.”

Wanting to clear any misunderstanding, he explained, “It’s just a networking thing. In Sunhaven, business tends to happen in these kinds of places, as if being less formal makes the deals go smoother. I’ve just come back, not quite used to it yet.”

“I see.” Sherilyn nodded with a smile. Business wasn’t her forte. “Must be a cultural difference

between here and there.”

“Crestwood has its charms, and so does Sunhaven…

Mentioning Crestwood gave them common ground, and they chatted and laughed all the way

to the mansion.

When they reached the Johnson Mansion, Edgar got out and opened the car door for Sherilyn. “We’re here.”

“Thank you,” Sherilyn said as she got out.

Pointing towards the mansion, Edgar mentioned, Pointing towards the mansion, Edgar mentioned, “It’s pretty late, and we have elders at home. I won’t come in, wouldn’t want to disturb Sylvia’s rest.”

“That’s fine…”

Sherilyn waved goodbye, “I’ll head in then, thanks for the ride.”

“Sure.”

Edgar nodded with a smile, watching her walk towards the mansion.

ten o’clock yet.

By this time, Sylvia was probably also resting. Sherilyn entered the living room quietly.

“Is that you, Sherilyn?”

It was Sylvia. Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Caught off guard, Sherilyn replied, “Yes, Sylvia.”

“Come here, dear.”

“Okay, Sylvia.”

Approaching, Sherilyn saw Sylvia wasn’t resting yet. She was having a late–night snack, and Gilbert was there too, sitting across from her.

“Sherilyn, come join us. I’ve just made some chicken noodle soup, have a bowl.”

Then, glaring at Gilbert, “What are you waiting for? Go get Sherilyn a bowl.”

“Sure.”

Gilbert stood up without a glance at Sherilyn and headed straight to the kitchen.

Sherilyn, keeping her gaze fixed away from him, sat next to Sylvia with her hands folded.

“Sylvia, you’re still up?”

“Hehe.”

Sylvia’s laugh held a hint of mischief, “Sleeping too early, you miss out on things, don’t you think?”

“Sylvia…” Sherilyn was confused, “What do you mean?”

“Hmm?”

Sylvia’s smile widened, letting go of the soup bowl and taking Sherilyn’s hand, “Still keeping secrets from me, huh? Tell me, who was it that brought you home just now?”

Sherilyn paused before saying, “Sylvia, are you talking about… Edgar?”

Given the surveillance at the Johnson Mansion’s entrance, it wasn’t surprising that Sylvia knew. But her keen interest and direct questioning meant something more.

“Yes.”

Sylvia nodded with a gleeful smile, “Tell me, what do you think of Edgar? Do you like him?”