Chapter 3

Stepping around Winona, I headed straight for the closet in our bedroom and pulled out my suitcase.

I didn't bother packing any of the clothes Winona had bought me, just some plain, casual clothes.

Winona leaned against the doorframe while watching my actions. She let out a cold laugh.

"Again with the running away from home? Simon Sorell, aren't you done with your tantrum yet? George dealt with all those guests on your behalf today, yet not only did you not say thanks, but you're even throwing a fit?"

Ignoring her, I turned to pull open the bedside table drawer where I stored my important documents and an old phone.

The drawer was empty.

My body stiffened before I whipped my head around to look at George.

He was sitting on the couch, fiddling with a familiar-looking phone.

"Why did you take my stuff? Give it back!"

I walked over and reached a hand out to take the phone back.

However, George swiftly ducked behind Winona, an aggrieved expression on his face as he said, "Simon, there's no need to be so fierce. My phone ran out of battery after taking so many photos today. Since there was a spare phone in the drawer, I thought I'd borrow it to transfer the photos.

"I couldn't figure out the password, so I went ahead and factory reset it. It's an old phone anyway, so there shouldn't be anything important in it, right?"

My mind went blank, and there was a loud roaring in my ears as all the blood rushed to my head.

That old phone didn't have any photos or chat records, just a few voice recordings.

Before my mother died in a car crash, she had been immensely worried about how terrible I was with directions. Hence, she used to give me directions over the phone.

After she passed away, I didn't even dare step out of the house.

It was Winona who spent several nights without sleep to painstakingly edit and organize all those past voice recordings into a one-of-a-kind personal navigator for me.

"Simon, turn left up ahead.

"Slow down a little. There's no need to be scared.

"It's fine even if you take the wrong turn. I'm right here with you, son."

For the past five years, every time I headed out, it was this phone—Mom's voice— that tided me over.

Snatching the phone from George, I switched it on with trembling fingers.

The screen lit up, but it had gone right back to showing the interface when one first set up a new phone.

It had been wiped clean, with nothing left at all. Not only was the local backup gone, but he had even casually deleted everything in the cloud as well.

I glared at George with eyes that had gone completely red. Then, I lifted my arm and swung a punch right at his face.

George bellowed in pain before crashing back onto the couch with a hand over his throbbing cheek.

Immediately, Winona's expression darkened. Her hand snapped out to seize my wrist in a tight grip, the force surprisingly strong, as though she wanted to crush my bones.

"Simon Sorell, have you gone crazy!"

"He deleted my navigation voice recordings!" I dug my nails into the back of her hand, somehow unable to pull free despite my struggles. "Winona Sinclair, those were voice recordings of my mom! You clearly know that!"

For a moment, Winona was surprised, but then she released me and stood protectively in front of George.

Her brow was furrowed as she uttered in a voice thick with impatience, "It's just a few voice recordings. Besides, she's already gone. You can't live the rest of your life just relying on those recordings."

Pausing briefly, she added matter-of-factly, "I'll hire a few expert voice actors to mimic her voice and record you a new, clearer version. That should be enough, right?"

I stared at the woman before me, feeling like someone had slashed my chest open to allow an icy wind to gust in and chill my heart.

The young woman who once hugged and promised me that she would help me keep my mother's voice alive had died sometime in the past five years.

Now, she was denying the importance and meaning of those voice recordings with her own lips.

"Voice actors?" I let out a bitter laugh and took two steps back. "Winona Sinclair, do you really think anyone and everyone can be replaced?"

Spinning on my heel, I grabbed my suitcase and headed for the front door.

Behind me, Winona yelled, "If you step out this door today, you can forget about the honeymoon trip to Frostia for the aurora!"

She was well aware that bringing Mom's ashes to see the aurora had been my wish for the past three years.

I didn't stop moving. In fact, I didn't even turn back to spare her another glance.

"There's no need to go anymore."

Because I no longer needed her to lead my way.