Chapter 1 A Return That Stirred Old Storms

The chauffeur had been waiting at the airport entrance for quite some time before driving me slowly toward Sycamore Manor.

Cameron Jennings had given me that manor as a gift back when we got engaged. Although five years had passed, it seemed that nothing much had changed since my departure.

"It looks about the same as when I left… though the sycamore trees do seem a little taller."

Cameron let out a soft, gentle laugh on the other end of the call. "Trees grow slowly. You shouldn't notice that much in five years. People, on the other hand… I heard those three went to the airport to meet you. You don't sound too happy. Did they upset you?"

I pressed my lips together, a sliver of irritation rising to the surface. "Not really. I just don't understand them. Cameron… why do people change so suddenly?"

There was a brief silence before I heard him sigh softly and say, "Grace, sycamore leaves never turn yellow all at once. That's the same when it comes to people."

I didn't respond. Instead, I shifted the topic, my tone turning brighter. "Well, moving on. How's our son? Is the poor thing still suffering from diarrhea?"

Cameron turned to glance behind him and answered, "He's doing much better now. He just fell asleep. Do you want to see him?"

A few seconds later, my phone buzzed.

I opened the photo. Soon, the sight of a tiny three-year-old boy curled up in his bed greeted my eyes. His long lashes rested against his cheeks, and his face was flushed with a warm pink as he slept soundly like a little piglet.

The faint heaviness in my chest was soothed in an instant by that small, peaceful face.

"What did the doctor say?" I asked.

"They said he's just got a sensitive stomach from the seasonal change. He'll be fine after some medicine and sleep. I postponed our private flight to tomorrow. I'm sorry. I probably can't make it to Old Mr. Walker's birthday banquet tonight.

"If you don't feel like dealing with it, I can call the Walker family for you."

I picked up the invitation beside me and shook my head. "I'll go. Why should I avoid them? I wasn't the one brought up cutting ties back then."

After the call ended, Cameron stood there holding his phone for a while, lost in thought. When he turned around, he noticed a slight movement coming from the child's bed.

A tiny hand pushed the blanket aside. Then, Zachary's messy head of hair peeked out from the covers. "Daddy, I think I heard Mommy's voice on the phone. Did Mommy call because she misses you?"

Cameron bent down, smiling as he ruffled his son's hair. "No. I called her because I missed her. Do you still feel unwell? If you're better, why don't we go see Mommy now?"

Zachary nodded eagerly, jumping straight out of bed. As he hurriedly put on his clothes, he chirped, "Okay! I miss Mommy, too!"

Cameron chuckled and reached out to straighten his son's crooked collar.

Although it was a tad troublesome to change their private flight on such short notice, it was hardly impossible. Besides, what was a little inconvenience if it meant seeing her sooner?

After all, he didn't want her to face any obstacles alone if he could help it.

…

Dusk settled in.

I was led by a server at the entrance and eventually arrived at the banquet hall of Walker Manor.

The moment I entered, I heard the gasps and murmurs ripple through the crowd.

"Damn, Grace Lent actually showed up. This is going to be some good, switched-at-birth heiress drama. Who do you think they'll side with?"

"My bet's on Brooke. Mr. Walker has spoiled her beyond reason over the past five years. Didn't he name an asteroid after her just the other day? Grace never got that kind of treatment back then."

"Same. Brooke, for sure. Adrian and Simon treat her like she's the center of their world. One personally helped her start a business, and the other poured real money into investing in her company. That's what you call a true favorite. Grace? She's ancient history."

The chatter overlapped in a noisy buzz, and I found myself amused all over again.

I hadn't come tonight out of anything more than basic courtesy. My plan was to deliver the gift, offer a few polite words, and then leave. I was human, not some zoo animal. I had no interest in putting on a show for others' entertainment.

So, I stuck to my plan and decided to leave early after exchanging a few pleasantries with Old Mr. Walker and making a decent-sounding excuse.

I had just turned toward the exit of the banquet hall and had barely taken a few steps when a clear, bright female voice called out, "Grace!"

I turned around, and there she was—Brooke.