Don't Mess with the Girl with Candy novel Chapter 941

"I know."

Coralie Quill lowered her gaze. A tear slipped from her lashes, landing softly on the photograph. Her voice was barely a whisper. "Don't worry, Mrs. Evans. I won't do anything foolish. I'll live a good life."

Her family of nine had been reduced to just her. And she had made a promise to Ari... no matter what happened, she had to keep smiling and keep moving forward.

See? She really had been happy these past few years.

"The Director is being well taken care of," Mrs. Evans said gently. "The doctor treating him is excellent, so he's stable for now. Try not to worry."

"Mhm." Coralie tucked the photograph into her designer bag, the heavy, glamorous makeup on her face unable to mask the absence of her usual smile. "Do we know who was investigating me?"

"The person's identity is highly classified." Mrs. Evans shook her head. "I have no idea."

After leaving the Evans' home, Coralie took the photograph out again. She studied it intently before making a phone call. "Look into where I can get an old, damaged photograph restored."

She wanted to see what her parents and siblings looked like.

A reply came quickly. There was an expert in Caelus who could do it, but the process would take about five days.

"Alright," Coralie replied softly. "I'm wrapping up some work in Borealia. The second the restoration is finished, send it to me."

***

Eclara City.

An elite gala was in full swing. Juniper Payne had been in a foul mood lately, so Shanley Schwartz had completely cleared his schedule to take her out and take her mind off things.

"Shanley Schwartz and Juniper Payne are coming?" Coralie swirled the champagne in her glass, her voice husky. "Don't touch that slice of cake. Save it for Mrs. Schwartz."

"Ms. Quill, we had that cake specially flown in," her assistant said carefully. "Don't you need to eat a piece every night just to fall asleep?"

It was a strange quirk. Other people relied on alcohol or sleeping pills to combat insomnia. Coralie relied on this specific cake. She didn't even eat much of it—just two or three bites. Rumor had it that her late boyfriend used to buy it for her, and it had become a ritualistic obsession.

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