?Chapter 1020:


    She picked up the phone and called the butler. “Find a time when Rnd isn’t around and take me to see Katie.”


    “Ma’am, Mr. Miller has made it clear he doesn’t want you anywhere near that woman.”


    “She wants to use Rnd as a pawn in her game of revenge. That’s not going to happen.”


    The next day, Katie ventured outside, the sun casting a warm glow over the yard. Several oil paintings were scattered around, each one beautifully crafted. But when Katie spotted Molly’s signature on the bottom, a sneer curled on her lips. “What can a little girl possibly paint?”


    A servant appeared with arge bucket, and without a second thought, all the paintings were thrown in and burned to ash.


    Katie grabbed one of the staff members, her anger rising. “What does this mean? Did she really paint these?”


    “What’s it to you?”


    “How dare you talk to me like that? Do you have any idea who you’re speaking to?”


    “Who cares.” The servant merely shrugged, unbothered, and walked away.


    Fuming, Katie stormed inside and confronted Rnd. He was sprawled across the sofa, absentmindedly staring at a business card.


    “Paintings?”


    “Yeah. The servant just burned them like they were nothing. Does Molly really think she’s some kind of artist?”


    Rnd shrugged, his tone indifferent. “Molly wants to get into an art academy. She’s heard they require a painting for the entrance exam. She’s always been the type to burn what she doesn’t like.”


    “Art academy? Does she even deserve to go? One’s off to Dugruayae University, and the other’s headed to art school. Why is it that all the best things always seem to fall into theirps?”


    gα?ησν????s?c???? brings imagination alive


    Frustration red in Rnd’s chest, and he stood up, heading for the door. “I’m going out.”


    Katie raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to spend time with your mother?”


    Rnd’s lips twisted into a cold smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t miss your final day.”


    Rnd pocketed the business card and made his way to the clinic it listed. He figured he could benefit from seeing a psychologist.


    But as he stood at the clinic’s entrance, he felt like a fool, throwing money at what seemed like an exercise in futility. He had sat across from psychologists before; they were the cream of the crop, offering only hollow titudes about embracing life and the world. If loving life were so simple, why would he be seeking a psychologist’s help?


    Scratching his head in frustration, Rnd turned on his heel and retreated the way he hade.


    During his initial approach, he hadn’t noticed the gallery of hospital staff photos adorning the corridor walls. He now recognized the woman from one such photo—the same one who had sped his waist to prevent his leap into the sea.


    Perhaps aiming to project an air of authority, the woman in the photo sported an outdated hairstyle that aged her considerably.


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