Bride Behind the Mask novel Chapter 262

Frederick, seeing Marguerite in such a state, felt each second passing by was pure agony.

He gently wrapped his arms around Marguerite, tightly clutching her shoulders, hoping he could offer her a sliver of comfort and strength.

"There's no rush to sign. We'll come back tomorrow."

Marguerite in his arms had long run out of tears, her emotions utterly drained.

She shook her head, her voice hoarse, "Let me go, I can sign. I'll sign."

Marguerite's voice was monotone, but her hand trembled uncontrollably.

Her handwriting was shaky but the pressure she applied was forceful enough to make an imprint on the back of the paper, giving Frederick a glimpse into her despair.

Laverne's body had to be kept in the hospital for a day to determine the exact cause of death, so Frederick had no choice but to take Marguerite home first.

Throughout the journey, Marguerite was calm. She didn't cry, nor did she make a fuss.

Frederick kept silent, knowing that no words could console her wounded heart right now.

Chuck, the co-pilot, was about to turn around to report the situation, but Frederick immediately shook his head at him, signaling him to stay quiet. Instead, Chuck texted Frederick.

[I've informed Ms. Yuna about Laverne. They just landed at Meadow Haven and are on their way back now.]

[Look into the doctor who prescribed the medication for Laverne.]

[Understood!]

Their Rolls-Royce moved through the city streets, caught in the early morning traffic.

Street corners were filled with breakfast street vendors, and Marguerite's gaze suddenly fell on a shop selling fries.

She turned to Frederick, the floodgates of her memories opening wide, and pointed out the window, "Look."

Following her direction, Frederick asked, "Want some?"

Marguerite shook her head, her tone indifferent, "No, it just reminded me of when I was a child. We were so poor, but I really wanted to eat fries. My grandma would get a couple of discarded potatoes from our neighbors and fried them for me.

But those potatoes were rotten, so they tasted bitter and astringent. Yet, my grandma and I found them incredibly delicious, and it made us feel so content."

As Marguerite spoke, she felt as though she was travelling back in time.

Her entire being was transported back to her childhood, to that familiar old house in Marina Shores Village.