What Separates Me and You

Seth was calmly cross-checking the receipts. He didn't even lift his head when he answered, "I could have."

"Oh my god! These were the mess Mr. Hall left in his wake, but nothing like this had ever occurred. Why are these statements all short of a penny or two? I'm almost going blind because of them." Seth didn't respond; he was as calm as the sky.

Meanwhile, Conrad was reporting to Lewis on another matter in the chairman's office. "Kiran has met Mr. Acre, the lawyer. We didn't gather information of what they discussed."

Lewis was flipping through the documents. He paused and looked up at Conrad. "When?"

"The day before yesterday, I think. Should I contact Mr. Acre?"

Lewis's contemplative gaze fell elsewhere. He was silent for several seconds before saying, "No need. He'll know what he should and shouldn't say if he's smart enough."

"Yes, sir," Conrad answered. That was his opinion too. If Mr. Acre chose to switch sides, he would eventually land himself in deep waters and end up losing more than he should. He then thought about Seth. "Mr. Fairchild seems to be having a breeze. Are the tasks too easy for him?"

Lewis raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes, sir." Conrad thought he could see Seth groaning in despair, but when he dropped by, he saw Seth continuing his work as cool as a cucumber. It wasn't supposed to be that way.

Lewis' lips curved into a smile. He idly leaned back on the sofa and said, "Then give him more."

"On it," Conrad replied gleefully. He enjoyed it most whenever Seth received the short end of the stick. "Oh, right. Ms. Woods' condition is stable now."

Lewis hummed in response.

Conrad then reported the progress on several important documents before leaving the office.

Lewis' gaze fell on the computer screen, showing the surveillance image in the mansion.

Avery was teaching Josephine how to draw. They splattered paint everywhere. Josephine's face was a colorful palette, and so was her shirt.

She sat beside the window with a paintbrush, solemnly focused on her work. The sunlight penetrated the window and shone on her, embracing her with a thin layer of soft, warm light, in which she seemed ethereal, like a fairy who could disappear anytime. She stared at the canvas before her, her eyelashes casting rings of shadows beneath her eyes.

Although she put all her heart into her painting, her effort merely formed scribbles on the paper. Avery studied it for some time but still couldn't identify what she had drawn. Nevertheless, Avery complimented her for doing it beautifully, and her compliments boosted Josephine's confidence. She grabbed her paintbrush and drew two more paintings.

As time went by, the sun started to set, and its rays turned a golden hue. They landed on Josephine's face and painted her pale complexion healthy.

Avery was in a daze across from Josephine. Perhaps it was for the best that Josephine forgot everything, provided her condition didn't deteriorate. Then, she could always be so carefree.

"Look, Avery!" Josephine waved at her, showing off her painting.

Avery went nearer and could barely identify three people from the painting. Two adults and a child. "Who did you draw?"

Josephine answered cheerfully, "This is Mom, this is Dad, and this is me."

Avery nodded and lied, "You painted them perfectly well."

Josephine put down her paintbrush and held Avery's hand. "Avery, would you like to go and play at my house? My parents are sure to like you."

Avery was stunned. She smiled and replied, "Of course. Where is your house?"

Josephine tilted her head and tried to remember. She shook her head. "I don't know, but Lewis said he'll take me home."

Avery almost rolled her eyes at that. How could Josephine trust that jerk? However, Avery didn't want Josephine to be sad. She merely smiled and nodded. "Alright. I'll go to your house when the time comes." Josephine hummed in agreement. Smiling, she picked up her paintbrush and started coloring the people she drew.

Avery checked the time; that guy was going to be back soon. She got up and bid Josephine goodbye before leaving. She preferred to leave on her own than get chased off the premises.

Indeed, she saw Lewis' car once she stepped outside the mansion. It passed her by and drove on as though she was invisible. Avery cursed Lewis under her breath before leaving on her motorcycle.

Josephine carefully finished coloring her subjects. However, she was too clumsy and colored over the outlines of the people in her painting, resulting in three colorful lumps of unidentified objects. She was satisfied, nonetheless. Taking the painting down, she puffed her cheeks and blew on it. Then, she smiled as she got up, wanting to keep it somewhere safe.

She bumped into a human wall the moment she turned and staggered. Lewis' arms encircled her waist and pulled her to him.

Josephine rubbed her forehead and looked up at Lewis, still wearing the same black clothes. Josephine could recognize him from his clothes.

Disregarding the pain, she eagerly showed him her painting. "Is my painting beautiful?"

Lewis studied the painting carefully. He had the urge to ask what these three lumps were. However, the woman before him was grinning from ear to ear. Drops of paint covered her face, giving life to it. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for his compliments. He asked tactfully, "What did you draw?"

"Mom, Dad, and me."

Lewis paused. He couldn't help taking a second glance at the three unidentified lumps. After a while, he forced himself to nod and say, "Pretty good."

Josephine's face lit up immediately. She carefully folded the paper and pocketed it. "But when can I go home?" She looked at him hopefully, wishing he could take her home.

She missed her mother's homecooked food, the cake her father would bake, the little figurines her grandfather carved, and everyone else. She missed them.

Lewis was silent.

Josephine rambled, "They would be so surprised to see me now that I've grown so much." She gestured with her hands as she spoke, her tone and words tinged with exaggeration and naivety. Lewis grasped her wrist. "Let's wash your face."

He pulled Josephine toward the bathroom. She was still persistently saying, "Take me home, okay? I don't want to be here. It's not fun here. I miss the cake my dad baked. I'll give you some. Dad bakes the nicest cakes. He can turn them into a rabbit, a bear, a dog ..."

Lewis didn't respond. He wrung a towel dry and wiped her face and arms.

Even when he wiped her face, he couldn't stop her from rambling on and on. She was like a little sparrow, chirping her heart away, telling him how pleasant her parents were and how annoying her brother was. Her voice slowed down toward the end.

She looked up at Lewis pitifully, and tears rolled down her cheeks. Lewis froze.

Josephine sobbed as she said, "I miss them."

Lewis gripped the towel as he stared into her eyes, his eyes flickering unpredictably.

Her face was pinkish from the wash, and her pleading eyes were staring right into his.

Lewis slowly tightened his grip on the towel as it gradually lost warmth and turned cool in his hand.

After what seemed like an eternity, he held her face and wiped off her tears. "Don't cry," he said softly in an indiscernible tone. He asked, "Don't you want to be with me?"