âYouâre saying your mother was in that car?â Christopherâs face fell, and he started worrying.
I held his hand anxiously and nodded. âYes. Iâm sure of it. The carâs different, but I saw her, and sheâs clearly furious. She just came out of the Lane residence. What should we do?â If Isabelle raised hell in there, I canât bring myself to face them.
âCalm down. Letâs go in and have a look. Maybe itâs not as serious as you think.â He patted my back and took me into the mansion. I hesitated for a while before going in since Iâll be d*mned if I did and doomed if I didnât.
The servant was clearing the table when we came in. There were snacks and an untouched teacup on it. I noticed it contained red tea, which Isabelle loved. Julia seemed to know Isabelle really well. She knew all her preferences since I realized that the snacks were Isabelleâs favorite too.
âYouâre here. Coincidentally, I donât have any poker sessions today. Iâll call Darius over so we can have lunch together.â Julia was smiling warmly as if nothing had happened.
Seeing that only worried me even more, since Julia would only smile calmly when she was hiding her true feelings. If she was genuinely happy, sheâd be beaming.
âMrs. Lane, Iâ¦â I wanted to say something, but nothing came out.
âDid you have guests, Mom?â Christopher went up and sat beside her. He looked at her closely, trying to say something, but he didnât. He trusted that his mother would bring it up.
As expected, she was smart enough to see through us. Shaking her head, she said, âYou two are nervous because you saw Isabelle, right?â
âMrs. Lane, did my mother do anything?â Thereâs no way sheâs here for a party. Itâs either about Robert or my relationship with Christopher, and she must have been really harsh, or Julia wouldnât put on that perfectly fake smile.
âJust some old history. We had a little chat, but it ended on a sour note,â Julia answered calmly, but she evaded my question. âCome to think of it, we used to be friends. Best friends, even. We kept no secrets from each other. I was older, but we got along well.â
Julia picked the cup up and took a sip. âI introduced this tea to her, and she fell in love with it, so I taught her how to make it.â
Julia seemed to love that time in her life. Every time she talked about it, she would have this look of reminiscence and melancholy in her eyes. Obviously, it didnât just end on a sour note, but since she didnât want to talk it, I didnât pry about it.
However, I was shocked that Isabelle used to be best friends with Julia. That made me wonder what happened to turn them into enemies. âYou must know my mom really well then, Mrs. Lane.â
âYes, just like how she knows me. I know what she likes to eat, her hobbies, and what she hates. The same goes for her. We would still be best friends if it werenât forâ¦â
Julia came up to me and gaze at me. âYou donât look like your mother at all.â She brushed her finger on my eyebrows. âNot even your personalities are alike. You must have gotten it from your father, or I would have recognized you the moment we met.â
Sensing that Julia had officially veered off the rails, I talked about art with her. Eventually, she said, âYouâre a talented artist, just like your uncle was. He loved business and made the Scotts rich as he expanded his empire, but he was also extremely talented in painting. He once created a piece of work that was touted as the painting with the most potential.â