Ives Norton then realized he had said something he shouldn’t have in the heat of the moment.
He rubbed his hair in chagrin and helplessly returned, “Actually, I found out a secret about your identity …”
“My identity?” Christine White exclaimed, “What’s wrong with my identity?”
“No, there’s nothing wrong with your identity, it’s just that there’s something very strange about it, I’ve been investigating it for almost three months now and I haven’t made any progress at all.” Ives Norton said somewhat vaguely.
Christine White was even more anxious, “Since my identity is fine, tell me what’s so strange about it?”
“Christine, I can’t tell you for now, can I wait until I find out more? If I tell you now, I’m afraid that something will come up out of the blue.” Ives Norton’s tone became serious.
Regarding her true identity, he was really on the wrong side of telling her now.
If she were to learn that she was not the daughter of The White Family, she would surely investigate her identity on her own as well, and when that person found out, that person would surely not let her go back to her real home, and might even go after her.
So this matter, he did not even tell Baird Lane, has always been, but also in the secret investigation, unfortunately, things have gone too long, the investigation is really difficult.
Christine White heard the seriousness in Ives Norton’s words and understood how he refused to say anything, so she couldn’t help but feel a bit deflated, “I know, then you check it out, and let me know when you’ve found it out, I’d like to know what’s so strange about my identity.”
“Don’t worry, I will, but at that time I want you …” Ives Norton was about to say something.
Christine White cocked her head, “Wish me what?”
“It’s okay, let’s wait until later, I’ve got a few things to do here, so I’ll hang up and get back to you when I have time.” Ives Norton said with a smile.
Christine White hmmm’d, “See you later.”
Hanging up the phone, she put away her cell phone and smiled a bit ready to go back to the house, when a questioning voice suddenly rang out behind her, “Christine girl ah, who was that just now?”
Christine White turned her head, “Grandpa White, what are you doing here?”
“Came over to bring you some vegetables.” The village chief put down the basket of vegetables in his hand and returned.
Christine White hurriedly poured him tea, “Thank you Grandpa White.”
“No need to thank you, it’s all home-grown vegetables.” The village chief took the cup and sat down, then a pair of shrewd eyes scanned her face, “Christine girl, did you just cry?”
“No.” Christine White hastily turned her back and wiped her eyes, “It’s sand in my eyes.”
“Come on.” The village headman shook his head in amusement, “Christine girl you lied to me, you are still tender, say it, just now is it your husband, he bullied you?”
“No, it’s a friend of mine.” Christine White turned her body back around and whispered back.
The village chief narrowed his eyes, “A friend? Did he just tell you something about his status?”
“Grandpa White you heard me?” Christine White was slightly surprised.
The village chief nodded, a refined aura crossed the bottom of his eyes, and tentatively asked, “I heard a little bit, what does he mean by identity?”
“I don’t know.” Christine White didn’t notice the village chief’s difference, and briefly described the conversation she had just had with Ives Norton.
The village head heard this and let out a slightly inaccessible sigh of relief, “In that case, then leave it, girl take an early rest, if you need anything feel free to come over and find me.”
“Okay, Grandpa White take your time.”
After sending off the village headman, Christine White stretched her back before carrying the vegetables that the village headman had sent over to the kitchen to make herself a simple meal.
After eating, she sat on her bed and read a book, ready to rest for a while, but ended up falling asleep as she watched.
By the time she woke up, it was dark.
She yawned and fished over her bedside alarm clock to see that it was actually almost eight o’clock.
“It’s so late?” Christine White rubbed her eyes and got up, then picked up her cell phone by her pillow and turned it on, realizing that there were actually several missed calls on it, all from the same person.
Looking at the familiar string of numbers, her eyes flashed on and off several times.
This is probably the first time Baird Lane has called her this many times.
Christine White went through the call logs and found that Baird Lane had been calling her every half hour, the most recent one, ten minutes ago.
Is he calling so many times for something?
For a moment, Christine White was both a little worried and a little overwhelmed.
She was worried if something was wrong on his end, but didn’t want to call him back over there, so she was torn between what to do at the moment.
This nagging went on for several minutes, and eventually Christine White couldn’t stand the worry and put the call through.
Only instead of Baird Lane’s number, she called Aunt Lucy’s.
Aunt Lucy was also a bit surprised to receive her call at this time, “Ma’am, why are you calling all of a sudden?”
Christine White was silent for two seconds before she spoke, “Aunt Lucy, is there something going on at Baird Lane’s, or did he come to me for something that is?”
“Mister there?”
“Well, he called me a couple times, so …”
Aunt Lucy understands and raises her eyebrows slightly, “So you’re worried about mister, ma’am, I’ll ask for you.”
“Good.” Christine White nodded.
Aunt Lucy knocked on the door and entered Baird Lane’s hospital room.
Baird Lane put down the pen he was holding and looked up at her, “What can I do for you?”
Aunt Lucy pointed to her cell phone, “Sir, the missus asked what you wanted to see her about.”
Hearing that it was Christine White asking, Baird Lane’s eyes darkened for a moment, “She called you?”
Aunt Lucy nodded.
Baird Lane’s thin lips pursed up in some displeasure.
This woman, who knew he was looking for her, didn’t call him back, but put the call through to someone else to forward a question to him.
Does she want to talk to him that badly?
At the thought, Baird Lane’s face went horribly cold and his breath froze around him.
He gripped the pen in his hand tightly and said in a morose tone, “Tell her it’s okay!”
“Oh.” Aunt Lucy answered, relaying his words to Christine White on the other end of the line.
Christine White was suspicious.
Nothing?
Making so many phone calls is obviously not his usual style, how can he be okay?
But he’d said that, so she wasn’t going to pursue it any further.
Asking more questions would only make her more put out.
“If it’s okay then it’s okay Aunt Lucy, I’m going to go make dinner, talk to you next time.” Christine White said and hung up the phone.
Aunt Lucy put down her phone and sighed with some heartache, “It’s a mess to have to cook when your wife is in a bad position.”
Baird Lane’s brow furrowed slightly when he heard her say that, “She still hasn’t told you where she is now?”
“No.” Aunt Lucy shook her head, “When the Mrs. doesn’t say anything, she just doesn’t want us to know.”
Baird Lane’s handsome face sank slightly, “You go out first.”
“Good.” Aunt Lucy turned and walked out.
Baird Lane put down his pen and pinched his brow, then closed his eyes and took a nap.
During his sleep he had a dream, a dream that was inexplicable to him.
Dreams of him, of Ives Norton, of Hugh Dong.
Ives Norton told him that he was in love with Christine White, he scoffed and actually signed divorce papers to divorce Christine White, after the divorce, Christine White was courted by Ives Norton and Hugh Dong together.
And he watched the three of them from the sidelines, his heart burning with rage, even to the point of wanting to get rid of Ives Norton and Hugh Dong, and then lock up Christine White so that those two could never find her.
Just as he was about to do so, a vibration rang out and he snapped his eyes open to wake up.
The whole of Baird Lane who woke up was sweating profusely and panting slightly, seemingly exhausted and tired.
He didn’t bother with his cell phone, which was still vibrating at the foot of his bed, but just held his forehead as he thought back to the dream that had just happened, a dream in which everything that happened to him was bizarre, yet he couldn’t help but care about it.
Why on earth would he have such a dream?