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Chapter 5 Some Things Don't Come Back

Auteur: Evelyn Brooks
By the time the taxi stopped at the entrance of the old street, a fine drizzle had begun to fall.

I dragged my suitcase along and followed the navigation for about five minutes before stopping in front of an old building. On the second floor hung a wooden sign carved with three words—First Step Studio.

I took a deep breath, lifted my suitcase, and headed upstairs. The wooden steps creaked beneath my feet.

The second floor opened into a shared workspace, with several desks arranged across the
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  • The Dress Was Never the Problem   Chapter 10 Freedom at Midnight

    As for Camellia, she was formally arrested overnight for incitement and financial fraud.The officer in charge of the case called me. "Ms. Blackwood, Camellia Crawford broke down in the interrogation room. She asked us to contact you. She wants to see you and beg for your mercy.""I won't see her. Follow the legal process." I hung up without hesitation.…At eight that evening, my picture book launched across all platforms.Silas told me excitedly in the studio that within just one hour, sales had already shattered industry records. My name had finally secured its place in the illustration world.I stood by the second-floor window, watching the heavy rain pour outside, when suddenly, a sharp screech of brakes came from below.A taxi stopped by the roadside. The door opened, and Enzo was wheeled out in a wheelchair by the driver.He was still wearing a thin hospital gown, his head wrapped in bandages. The hand where the IV had been removed was still bleeding. Having just been pu

  • The Dress Was Never the Problem   Chapter 9 The Final Severance

    I pulled my leg free, took out a termination agreement from my bag, and slapped it straight onto Enzo's chest. "Sign it. And put your thumbprint on it. Now."The smile froze on his face. He stared at the document in disbelief, his eyes reddening almost instantly. "I'm not signing it. Estelle, what kind of joke is this? Did I do something wrong? Don't leave me. You're all I have. You can't be this heartless."He suddenly sat up, yanking at the IV needle on the back of his hand without hesitation. Blood immediately welled up, dripping onto the white sheets.I grabbed his wrist and held it down, watching him coldly. "This pathetic act of yours is disgusting. Your amnesia trick is outdated. Spare me your feigned devotion."I did not spare him another glance. Holding his hand in place, I forced his thumbprint onto the document. Then I turned and walked away without looking back.The moment I reached the hospital lobby, dozens of reporters flooded in from outside, cameras and micropho

  • The Dress Was Never the Problem   Chapter 8 Ashes and Aftermath

    Camellia's face turned deathly pale. The arrogance she had just displayed vanished without a trace. She grabbed Enzo's shoulder, her nails digging harshly into his suit. "Enzo. Call the family. Get those trending topics suppressed right now. The Beck family cannot end here. Do you hear me?"Enzo slowly brushed her hand away. "Mom, our family has been rotten for a long time. This can't be covered up. This is retribution."He turned to look at me, something like quiet pain flickering in his eyes. "Estelle, all the shares I hold in Beck & Co. will be transferred to you for free starting today. Think of it as my final attempt to make things right. I was blind before, and I failed you. This is what I owe you.""You've lost your mind!" Camellia shrieked, her composure snapping. She spun around, grabbed a heavy ceramic planter from the roadside flowerbed, and raised it with both hands. "I'll kill you. This is all your fault, you shameless wretch!"Her face twisted as she raised the heavy

  • The Dress Was Never the Problem   Chapter 7 Public Ruin

    The rain outside seemed as if it would never stop.I gripped the USB drive containing the final draft and walked toward the studio entrance. But the sight waiting for me made me freeze.Thick red paint dripped from the doorframe, seeping through the cracks. The walls were covered in vicious, filthy insults.Natalie stepped out from the street corner, with four or five rough-looking men behind her. "Search her bag. Get the USB. Don't let her run."The men charged forward, iron rods in hand, surrounding me in an instant. Rough hands yanked at my backpack straps, trying to tear it away.I held onto the bag with everything I had. This was half a year of my work, every page inside drawn stroke by stroke with my own hands.Suddenly, Enzo rushed forward and pulled me into his arms. A dull thud echoed as a metal rod slammed hard into his back. He let out a muffled groan and dropped to one knee from the force."Enzo…" Natalie rushed over, shoving me aside as if I were nothing. Tears fell

  • The Dress Was Never the Problem   Chapter 6 Shattered Keepsake

    I ignored him, pulled a pen from the holder, flipped straight to the last page, and signed my name.Before Enzo could say anything else, the phone in his pocket started vibrating wildly. The screen lit up with Natalie's name."Estelle, Natalie… something's happened to her. I have to go check on her. I swear I'll come back right after I'm done. We'll talk this through properly, okay?""Enzo, I'm not going anywhere, and there's nothing to talk about. Go wherever you need to go."He stood there for a moment, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something. In the end, he only looked at me deeply before stumbling out of the studio.I asked Silas to arrange the stamping of the contract and the follow-up process as soon as possible. …After that, I found a hotel, checked in, and took the room key.The room was not big, but it was clean. Outside the window, I could see the rain-soaked stone pavement glistening under the dim light.After closing the door, I leaned back against it a

  • The Dress Was Never the Problem   Chapter 5 Some Things Don't Come Back

    By the time the taxi stopped at the entrance of the old street, a fine drizzle had begun to fall.I dragged my suitcase along and followed the navigation for about five minutes before stopping in front of an old building. On the second floor hung a wooden sign carved with three words—First Step Studio.I took a deep breath, lifted my suitcase, and headed upstairs. The wooden steps creaked beneath my feet.The second floor opened into a shared workspace, with several desks arranged across the room and illustrations of various styles covering the walls. The air carried the faint scent of old books and coffee. It was quiet.Someone stood up from the corner and walked toward me. He was tall, dressed simply in a white shirt and dark slacks, with gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. There was something refined and gentle about him.When he saw my face, he paused for a moment, then smiled as recognition dawned."I'm Silas," he said, adjusting his glasses, his smile warming. "Profess

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