Chapter 44: Horace Hawthorne
Amelia thought he would bring her to a run-of-the-mill diner for fries. She was sorely mistaken when she was ushered into a car with tinted windows via the hospital’s back exit and then delivered to a five-star restaurant she once waited tables at for extra cash.
They were brought to a private dining room without any delay, and the food was served a moment later. Amelia stared at him, agog. Did he plan this in advance?
"There’s no need for this..." She protested weakly, but the old man waved her objections away, his movements suddenly looking sharper than before.
"It is necessary because I need privacy. I’m sorry that I have not been entirely honest with you." The old man wet his lip and sucked in a deep breath.
His entire demeanor had changed― his back was straighter, no longer hunched. There was a knowing glint in his eyes as well and they seemed clear and all-knowing. Amelia had to blink a few times and reorientate herself. This was not at all the same man who brought her to the restaurant.
However, the kindness in his eyes remained as before. As such, Amelia found it difficult to be entirely on guard against him. It felt wrong, almost, to treat genuine kindness with disrespect and fear.
"I know you’re actually not Elaine," he said.
Amelia’s heart froze. Did this old man bring her all the way here to tell her that? Did he recognize her from the video and think she was a gold-digging bitch as well, and he brought her here to humiliate her further?
Or did he think he stood a chance with her? Her stomach boiled with disgust. The media had portrayed her as a woman who was willing to betray her husband for someone richer― what if this old man thought the same?