A Journey from Bitterness to Truth (Matilda and Yvan) novel Chapter 220

After brushing his teeth, Orson sat down for dinner with his sister and nephew. They were having hotpot, a steaming spread of various ingredients laid out before them. Orson was never picky with food; he'd eat whatever was on the table, never in a rush, savoring each bite with deliberate slowness. Matilda often thought that Orson lived his life at a different pace from everyone else—detached, aloof, existing in his own orbit. He slept by day and came alive at night, a whirlwind of efficiency at work. But outside of that, his time seemed to be spent in slow motion, as if the world around him was on pause.

Logan, on the other hand, was a bundle of energy, his face smudged with sauce from devouring his meal. He chattered excitedly about his day at school, his eyes wide and expectant for Orson's praise after recounting his little academic victories.

Orson sighed, a rare smile teasing the corners of his mouth as he ruffled Logan's hair. "Impressive."

Logan beamed, passing Orson a slice of meat. "Thanks, Uncle Orson!"

Watching the two of them interact, Matilda couldn't shake the feeling that this was some semblance of a family gathering. Orson's face bore such a striking resemblance to Gideon's that it was all too easy to see him as a shadow of her late brother.

The thought tugged at her heartstrings, and for a moment, her eyes misted over. But she held back the tears. She had to live well, for that was the only way Gideon could rest in peace above.

...

Yvan had somehow caught wind of Logan's acceptance into a prestigious private school, and his initial concern was whether Matilda could afford the steep tuition fees. Then he remembered the substantial sum of money he'd given her once, enough to cover Logan's education with plenty to spare. He fell silent before instructing Carl, "Keep an eye on Logan at school. Make sure no one gives him a hard time."

Carl bowed respectfully, replying with a simple, "Yes, sir," before leaving the room.

Alone in his office, Yvan swiveled in his chair to face the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him. The view from his high-rise office always left him with a desolate feeling.