The trouble had been resolved, but Garrison Reeves was far from relieved.
Instead, a sense of defeat weighed on him, as if he were trapped in a fog and crushed by a stone. He knew he’d been played, and the feeling of being manipulated reminded him of over a decade ago, when Leland Burns had suddenly appeared in the Midlands and used despicable means to take Winifred Dawson away.
It didn’t take long for Garrison Reeves to connect this incident to Leland Burns. Someone with such cunning, low-handed tactics-Leland Burns was the only person who came to mind.
A little digging confirmed his suspicions: Leland Burns was indeed in the Midlands. What was initially just a hunch became certainty. It wasn’t surprising that Leland Burns would target him. After all, the two had always been at odds. If Garrison had the upper hand, he too would’ve done everything in his power to crush Leland, leaving him no chance to recover.
For Leland Burns, targeting others was either a matter of intense dislike or fear-fear that one day, someone would rise above him and overshadow him completely.
But why had Leland Burns let go at the critical moment this time?
Garrison Reeves couldn’t figure it out, though he was more concerned about another matter: Winifred Dawson. She was now in Leland Burns’ vicinity, and if he recognized her…
Garrison Reeves wanted to take Winifred Dawson back to their home country as soon as possible. Ideally, they’d retreat to Bankshire, staying indoors for the rest of their lives. He wished she could live quietly, secluded, enjoying a life of comfort. Many would envy the chance to stay at home with endless wealth and no worries about food or clothing. But for some reason, Winifred Dawson seemed to dislike that idea.
While Garrison Reeves planned to bring her back quickly, he was unaware that his thoughts aligned perfectly with Leland Burns’ intentions.
—
That afternoon, a rainstorm rolled in around four o’clock. The sound of raindrops pattered against the windows, carried by the wind. Such weather always brought a sudden drop in temperature, and after the rain, the air grew colder by the hour.
Winifred Dawson hated winter. It brought pain.
Though it wasn’t winter yet, her injured bones already ached-especially her foot. She was missing part of her big toe, and while wearing shoes usually concealed it, she avoided anything that might expose her foot. Sneakers were her constant choice, with single shoes being rare and sandals completely out of the question.
When the cold set in, the pain in her foot became unbearable, radiating from the missing part of her toe through her leg, as if carried along veins and nerves.
Bankshire’s damp, chilly climate didn’t suit her at all. The winters were especially harsh, the cold seeping into her bones and intensifying the pain to a point where she sometimes needed a wheelchair.
She was resilient-perhaps hardened by past experiences-but her endurance for pain was remarkable.
Garrison Reeves felt for her. He installed underfloor heating in their home and made sure she soaked her feet and wore warm clothing daily, ensuring her legs wouldn’t deteriorate further.
Now, Winifred Dawson stood by the window, gazing at the misty path outside. The windows were shut tight, creating a stifling atmosphere, but she didn’t mind. She feared the cold more than the lack of fresh air.
Without underfloor heating in this apartment, she relied on the air conditioner, turning it up high until the entire room was warm and cozy.
As she watched the gloomy sky, she found herself wondering if it would snow this year. She hated the biting cold of winter but loved the snow. Somehow, she felt that before her memory loss, she had lived in a place where snow always fell in the winter.
The warmth of the room made her drowsy, but she stubbornly resisted the pull of sleep. At five o’clock, a familiar figure appeared.
Garrison Reeves, umbrella in hand, walked briskly along the path. Before he could reach the door, Winifred Dawson had already opened it.
Surprised, Garrison Reeves hesitated, then spoke as he stepped inside. “I thought you’d forgotten to close the door.”
“No, I opened it for you. I saw you from the window.”
He shook the rain from his umbrella and set it aside to dry. Stepping inside, he immediately noticed the contrast in temperature. Outside felt like autumn, but inside was like summer. Winifred had set the air conditioner to thirty degrees-it was almost too warm.
Knowing she dreaded the cold, he didn’t complain. He removed his jacket and hung it on the coat rack.
“You should go out less often these days.”
“Why?” she asked casually.
He couldn’t tell her the truth. “It’s not safe outside. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
She nodded seriously. “Got it. I’ll stay in.” She hadn’t planned on going out anyway. The cold was one reason, and the possibility of encountering Leland Burns was another.
The thought of Leland Burns stirred a cautious curiosity within her.
“Garrison Reeves, do you know Leland Burns?”
His expression changed instantly at the mention of that name. His face tightened, his unease evident.
“Why are you bringing him up? Did you see him somewhere?”
“No, I just caught a glimpse of him on the finance channel. I was curious.”
“Just curious?” Garrison Reeves didn’t press further, fearing she might remember something.
“Yes, I know him,” he admitted, his tone laced with disdain. “But I can’t stand him. I don’t want to hear anything about him, nor do I want any contact with him.”
It was the first time Winifred had seen Garrison Reeves express such open dislike for someone. His tone and expression left no doubt about his feelings.
From his reaction, she realized that even mentioning Leland Burns’ name would upset him. If he ever learned about what had happened between her and Leland…
She didn’t dare dwell on it.
Suppressing her emotions, she tried to maintain her composure, though her face turned pale.
Garrison Reeves noticed. “Why do you look so pale?” he asked with concern.
“Maybe I haven’t fully recovered yet,” she replied stiffly, brushing her hand against her face. When he stepped closer to check, she instinctively pulled away and turned toward the living room.
The hallway was narrow, and Garrison Reeves followed closely behind her. Only when they reached the living room did he catch up to her side.
Her mention of Leland Burns had put him on edge, his guard instantly raised. For years, he had avoided bringing up that name around her, yet now she had mentioned it herself.
He regretted letting her leave their home, even briefly. Part of him wanted to lock her away again, to keep her hidden in some dark, isolated corner. Maybe even return her to the broken state she had been in before-because only then could he be sure no one else would want her.
His fists clenched tightly, his knuckles white. He didn’t even notice the pain as his nails dug into his palms.
Winifred, walking ahead, was oblivious to his thoughts. Her mind was a tangled mess, impossible to unravel.
—
Unknowingly, a transparent barrier had formed between them. Lies had started to pile up, creating distance. Though invisible, the gap between them was growing.
Both were testing each other in subtle ways. Suspicion and doubt-poisonous in any relationship-were creeping in.
Winifred steadied herself and asked cautiously, “Did I… know Leland Burns before?”
“No,” Garrison Reeves replied immediately, his voice firm and unwavering, as if he’d been waiting for the question.
But his quick reaction made her glance at him longer than usual, sensing something odd.
Realizing his mistake, Garrison softened his tone. “You don’t know him. You’re nothing like him, and it’s better that way. From what I know, he’s a vile man who uses despicable methods. If you ever see him on the street, stay as far away as possible.”
Garrison’s words weren’t wrong. Leland Burns was indeed a man of many vices-violent, twisted, far from virtuous.
She believed him. By all logic, she and Leland Burns were worlds apart and should have nothing to do with each other. If she ever encountered him, she should avoid him at all costs.
But that night, she hadn’t been able to escape him. And now, with Leland Burns closing in, she couldn’t break free.
Winifred had thought there must be some reason for Leland Burns’ persistence. The coincidences, the encounters-she began to suspect that Leland Burns might have known her before she lost her memory.