The Best Revenge It Wasn't Even Your Child novel Chapter 261

“Come on, get out. There's another ice cream shop in that mall over there. I’ll buy you one more, but only a small size this time…”

Lorinda walked over and stood in front of the window, blocking Catherine’s view. She tapped on the glass twice, waiting.

When Catherine just sat there, Lorinda didn’t bother arguing. She yanked the door open and pulled her out.

Caught by surprise, Catherine stumbled out of the car. Her eyes darted past Lorinda, searching for the spot she’d been looking at before.

There, beneath the shade in the corner of the complex, she could almost see Lance standing where he’d been just a moment ago. The memory was so sharp it hurt.

She remembered another time he came to pick her up here. It was winter then, the bare branches covered in frost.

Lance had been waiting for her downstairs, dressed in a black wool coat, silent and patient.

For a split second, the memory overlapped with reality.

But the figure beneath the tree was gone.

Sunlight filtered through the thick leaves, casting uneven shadows and making the corner look even darker.

No sign of Lance anywhere.

“Hey, what are you staring at?”

Lorinda waved her hand in front of Catherine’s face, snapping her out of it.

Catherine blinked, shook her head, and tried to smile. “It’s nothing. What did you just say?”

“I said let’s go get ice cream at the mall nearby.”

Lorinda glanced toward the tree, following Catherine’s gaze.

“That’s okay, I’m actually pretty hungry. Let’s just go eat,” Catherine said, motioning for Lorinda to get back in the car.

She ducked in first, not waiting for a response.

Lorinda closed the door behind her, then circled around to the driver’s side. She couldn’t help glancing at the tree one more time.

It was old, the trunk wide and sturdy.

For a second, she thought she saw a sliver of black fabric peeking out from behind the bark.

Lorinda’s hand froze on the door handle. Surprise flickered in her eyes, but she quickly hid it and got in the car.

“Let’s go.”

She drove away from the complex. In the rearview mirror, she kept stealing glances at the tree.

As they turned the corner, she caught a clear glimpse of someone standing behind it.

Lance was there, lean and tense, his back pressed against the trunk. His black suit jacket hung off the arm of the hand shoved in his pocket.

With his other hand, he held his phone to his ear, already deep in conversation.

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