SWNOVELS Chapter 133
Chapter 133
1. Anter Ballaster hadn't left the art gallery just yet.
Fresh from a meeting, he turned into the gallery space instead of heading out.
The painting “Frostfall” was supposed to be tucked away in a quiet corner, an
area reserved for the unnoticed works of emerging artists. Approaching the
scene, he was met with chaos. His brow furrowed in confusion as he asked,
“What's going on here?
A staff member quickly explained, “A visitor got clumsy with their ice cream, and
one of the paintings got. splattered.”
Space was at a premium in the gallery, with several modestly priced newcomers*
pieces on display in this small section.
Ballaster’s expression darkened. “How could such a basic mistake happen? And
since when is eating allowed in here?”
The staffer looked as if they were at a funeral, continuing, “Chairwoman Fanny
was livid. She's already fired the person responsible. It's a good thing these
pieces aren't valuable, or we'd be in real trouble!”
Ballaster was concerned. If “Frostfall” was ruined, how would he check it out for
Cordelia?
“We're preparing to call the artists individually, ask them to bring new pieces as
an apology.”
He nodded; that was the only course of action left.
He'd have to wait for “Frostfall’s artist to deliver another piece before he could
take a look.
Fanny, not too far away, curled her lips into a smirk. Greenmeadow was her turf,
and meddling came easy to her. She hadn't expected Ballaster to actually come
see the art. Had Naylor really tipped him off? Luckily, she had been meticulous
enough to sabotage the painting in advance.
That night, Lorna didn’t come down for dinner. While Cordelia was worried, even
Mathilda insisted she shouldn't interfere, so she returned to her room to read.
The next morning, Cordelia packed her bag and was about to take a pill from the
bottle Louie had given her when she paused, recalling Everard’s pained
expression from the day before.
She hesitated, then decided against taking the medication, capping the bottle
and slipping it back into her bag before heading downstairs.
Lorna seemed a bit better but still downcast. As Cordelia left with her breakfast in
hand, Lorna finally spoke up, “The picture you wanted framed will be ready by
this afternoon. It'll be up in your room by the time you're
back.”
Cordelia’s eyes lit up. “Great.”
At Midnight Scent, Everard, Bible in hand, sat behind the counter listening to a
report.
Skyler, in his favorite jumpsuit, spoke respectfully, “Boss, that Louie you asked
about has been squeaky clean these past years, nothing out of the ordinary...”
Everard was about to respond when footsteps approached, and Cordelia walked
in wearing her school uniform. She seemed surprised to find Skyler there and
glanced at him before turning to Everard with understanding.
The police officer here must mean that Everard was in hot water, right?
Skyler caught a warning glance from his boss and quickly improvised, “Oh, I'm
just checking on Midnight Scent’s business license
See how quick-witted he was! After making his claim, he turned to Everard with
mock seriousness, “Let's see it
then
Everard, clad in black, languidly leaned back, expressionless as he watched him.
After about five seconds of staring. Skyler realized there was no such license at
Everard's place. Bluffing, he stammered, “Ah, since the license is in order, I'll be
on my way!”
He fled as soon as the words left his lips.
Cordelia, pizzled by the exchange, didn’t dwell on it. After sharing breakfast and
holding hands with Everard for a while, she stood to leave.
At the door, something came to mind, and she looked back, “Are you feeling any
better today?”
Everard, having forgotten the previous day’s events, blinked in confusion before
remembering his act, lowering his eyes in feigned sorrow, “I'm fine, don’t worry
about me.”
Cordelia paused, her voice awkward as she admitted, “I didn’t take my
medication today.”
With those words, she walked away, leaving Everard stunned.
Was Cordelia trying to cheer him up?
It was such a simple sentence from her, yet why did he suddenly feel so happy?
Merry was distraught. Her live stream had been banned and slapped with an
incriminating statement, leaving her resourceless.
The customer service's official response was, “Please wait, we'll verify your
content and get back to you,” but then silence.
Fuming, Merry turned to her social media followers, who loyally sought her out
for answers.
Merry blasted the platform online, only to receive a legal notice from them the
next day!
Their call was aggressive, “You must delete your post and apologize, or we will
pursue damages for defamation.”
Merry retorted, “I've done nothing wrong. Why should I apologize?”
Their reply was cold, “Then prove you're innocent.”
Merry was exasperated, her voice rising, “Can't you be reasonable? How can I
prove it?"
Unyielding, they shot back, “That's not our problem. If you can't prove your
innocence, the ban stays.”
Merry snapped, “Damn it! Prove your ass..."
She cursed under her breath, only to be interrupted by a cool voice behind her,
“Prove what?"
At the sight of Cordelia, Merry’s eyes reddened, and although choked up, she
stubbornly replied, “Nothing.”
Cordelia observed her, then simply acknowledged with an “Oh” before entering
the classroom.
If Little Parrot needed her help, she would ask. If she didn’t, Cordelia wouldn't
press her, because Little Parrot had her pride too.
And so, Merry spent the day distracted and troubled.
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: )
During lunch break, Merry’s phone
buzzed with an incoming call that
snapped her out of her daydream.
The voice on the other end was blunt
: “ ’
and to the point. “Rent’s due, Merry.
“ ) ”
Three months’ worth. That's $4,500.
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She pursed her lips, “Can I pay it monthly? Would that work?"
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« »
Not a chance,” the landlord retorted
. . “
without a hint of sympathy. “If you
) Pp )
can't make it, you've got two days to
» : +
pack up and leave.” With those final
words, he hung up. The content is on
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chapter there!
Merry frowned, staring at her bank account. The balance read a meager $2000.
Seemed like even her next
Chapter 133
meal seemed like a luxury she couldn't afford.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself. There was no other choice; she had
to figure something out, and fast.
As the school day wound down, Cordelia breezed past her. Merry hesitated, half—
hoping to say something, but eventually, she remained silent
watching Cordelia walk away, returning to her own home.
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When Merry got back to her
apartment, she noticed Lorna was
nowhere to be seen. She glanced
around the living room, a question
forming on her lips, when Mathilda
f Si Se ,
chimed in, “Lia, the painting's all
fl Si
ramed and up. It's in your room
” .
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