When the Wind is Sweet: The Fairy Tale of Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster-Chapter 505: Caleb, Where Are You?

On the way home, Chase Fletcher sat in the back seat in a suit and tie, as the city’s night lights dazzled outside.

The driver, Noah Caldwell, was driving and occasionally glanced at him through the rearview mirror. Seeing he was lost in thought, he gently reminded, "President Fletcher, you stood Mr. Fletcher up today. You promised to go back for dinner. Maybe you’ll have to explain tomorrow."

Chase Fletcher snapped back to reality, understanding his assistant’s meaning: he needed to think of a solution.

So he pondered briefly and softly instructed him, "Don’t speak carelessly about what happened today. My father is strict, and I’m worried it might affect the young woman."

"Don’t worry, I won’t say a thing." His assistant and driver, Noah, was a considerate young man.

Through the rearview mirror, he vaguely saw the injury at the corner of the man’s mouth and couldn’t help but worry, "How are you going to explain this injury? It probably won’t subside by tomorrow."

"Let’s deal with tomorrow’s issues tomorrow. Get some rest for now," replied Chase as he closed his eyes and leaned back into the seat.

It seemed his heart was still with Rachel Sherman and her daughter, their lingering images in his mind, bringing a touch of heartache and worry, as his delicate brows furrowed slightly.

After being busy the whole afternoon and most of the evening, he was indeed a bit tired.

At night, Faye Turner, after her bath, strolled around the study and found that Dustin Shepherd had sent her a message three hours ago.

Oh no, she hadn’t checked it in time!

Quickly, she opened the WeChat message; Dustin had informed her that he went to the police station today and found the complete dossier related to that car accident years ago. He also went to the hospital but couldn’t retrieve all the information, yet he believed there were materials she needed.

Faye read the message three times. While Adrian Lancaster was still in the study, she called Dustin.

The ringtone didn’t last long before he answered, "Hello, still awake at this hour?"

"Sorry, I just saw your message, thank you." Faye always prioritized expressing her gratitude, "The hospital records aren’t complete, right?"

"The attending doctor left not long after that," Dustin told her, "I only found some historical documents, but they feel incomplete."

How could this be??

Faye felt the incident becoming more mysterious, why did he leave?

At this point, Adrian Lancaster came upstairs with a cup of warm milk for pregnant women.

His steps were light, and just as he pushed the door open, Faye ended the call. She turned her head to see him, still holding her phone.

"At this late hour, was someone calling you?" Adrian asked, not out of suspicion but concern, as he walked towards her.

"No, I was just scrolling through Douyin." Faye smiled.

When he reached her, she took the milk from his hand, "Thank you, honey." The temperature was just right, and she drank it all at once.

Adrian’s lips curved into a smile, "Good girl." He affectionately patted her on the head and took back the empty cup, "It’s not early anymore, let’s sleep, shall we?"

"Yeah, yeah, are you done with your work?"

"I’m done."

And so, Faye lay down in bed with Adrian.

The main light switched off, she nestled in the crook of his arm, listening to his familiar heartbeat, and soon fell into a dreamy slumber.

No matter how tiring work was, as long as Adrian lay on this familiar bed, and could smell the faint fragrance emanating from her, he felt a deep sense of peace, and his sleep quality greatly improved.

That night, as the moon rose over the treetops, the late autumn wind was already quite chilly.

Winter was approaching.

If the windows weren’t tightly shut at night, it was indeed a bit chilly, and one could easily catch a cold.

In the Lancaster Family’s ancient old mansion, the main villa’s lights were already off, and in the front courtyard, the lush leaves of the camphor tree rustled gently in the evening breeze.

In the small building at the rear courtyard where Eliza Hayes stayed, a tastefully decorated bedroom remained brightly lit.

She sat before the vanity mirror, holding an old, yellowed photo album that she had cherished for a long time, having already flipped through it for at least an hour, yet never tiring of the people inside it.

Her affectionate gaze lingered on the man in the photograph for a long time.

She gently caressed the man’s cheek in the photo with her fingertip, as a persistent voice echoed in her heart —

Caleb, are you still alive? Where are you?