hapter 20
In the prison visiting room. Knox sat across from Vivian behind thick glass. She wore an orange jumpsuit, her face gaunt and sallow bardh recognizable.
In Knox’s memory, Vivian had always maintained her best appearance to please him.
Now seeing her in this state, Knox felt nothing but wanted to get straight to the point.
Vivian had also learned prison rules during her month inside. Not daring to cause more trouble, she got right to business.
“Celia Montgomery is still alive.”
The coffeecup shattered against the tiles as Knox
crack through his bones.
Vivian’s lips kept moving, but her words became needles piercing his temples. He gripped the phone until his knuckles went white, his face reflected distortedly in the glass–like a pale plaster statue suddenly given a
“I personally collected Celia’s urn from the airport and signed the death certificate myself. How dare you say she’s alive?”
Knox laughed coldly, but his voice shook.
Compared to Knox’s shock, Vivian seemed remarkably calm.
“I have a friend who works at the airport. When he visited me in prison, he told me that on the day of the crash, someone with the same name and face as Celia bought three tickets to France.”
Vivian had asked a guard’s permission to bring the printed photo her friend had taken.
She placed the paper before Knox.
The face identical to Celia’s appeared before him, making his pupils contract sharply.
There was no mistake–Knox would never mistake her!
He’d been married to Celia for two lifetimes and knew her face better than anyone!
It was her–definitely Celia!
Knox couldn’t sit still any longer. He bolted up and rushed out of the prison.
As he started his car toward the airport, he called his assistant,
“Buy me a ticket to France immediately!”
He had to see Celia, find her, ask why she’d faked her death, and why she hadn’t come back to find him when she claimed to love him so much! He’d tell her all his longing, love, and regret from these days!
He’d win Celia back, remarry her, and start over!
The plane crossed through clouds before landing at a French airport.
Paris was drizzling lightly.
Knox walked briskly through streets and alleys with his umbrella.
Originally planning to find Celia directly, he’d received a call from his grandfather as soon as he landed.
Not knowing Celia was alive, his grandfather assumed Knox had come to apologize to the Montgomery family and reminded him to bring gifts.
Knox reconsidered–his grandfather had a point.
After hurting Celia so many times, showing up empty–handed would be inappropriate.
Cad or Just Stunid
79.29
Se Knox changed courte konding to Party shopping diau tet to liny pint for colle
As knox emerged from a luxury boutique with branded shopping bags, his umbrella frame groaned unnier a sudden rist
That silhouette was closing an umbrella ten meters away under the plane trees.
Her collarbone length hair glistened with rain, her gray coat’s hem sweeping over wet brick cracks–identical to what she’d worn when he
her
Knox’s shopping bags suddenly hit the ground, expensive perfume bottles shattering and releasing their potent fragrance.
The scent triggered distant memories, taking Knox back three months to the airport’s sorrowful atmosphere–the screams, tears, and his own anguished cries while holding Celia’s urn.
Now that turning motion, that gesture of tucking hair behind her ear, even the prominent wrist bone–everything was crystal clear in the rain.
“Celia!”
