Chapter 592 Burying the Past in Snow

Outside the gate, Nora sat motionless in her wheelchair, lifting her cold, pale eyes at the sound of the doors opening.

She held an umbrella that was now fully blanketed in snow, hiding its original design. The snow on her shoulders remained, never melting. Her hand gripping the umbrella handle had turned red from the cold.

It was the second time the servant had seen Nora.

And yet, even having seen her once before, she was still taken aback. At first glance, the resemblance between this woman and her mistress was uncanny–at least seventy percent similar.

But a closer look showed the differences.

Nora looked more like how Madam Yunice had appeared when she first arrived at Pavilion Hall: cold, quiet, lonely, her gaze tinged with detachment.

Yunice no longer looked that way. Now her eyes glowed with a warmth of life, which made her seem less and less like Nora.

The servant stepped outside and spoke politely, “Ms. Nora, I’ve delivered your message. But Madam said she’s not free to listen–and I mean, Mr. Wyatt isn’t interested either.”

Nora’s expression tightened, her grip on the umbrella slightly clenching.

The servant continued, “Sir said he doesn’t meet with irrelevant people. He also said Maine brought this on herself. It wasn’t a setup. So please don’t come here again about this matter.”

Nora didn’t hear what she’d hoped for. Her voice rose with disbelief, “Wait–Wyatt isn’t even home today, is he? These things you’re saying… Yunice must’ve told you to say them, didn’t she? She just wants me to give up and stop clinging to Wyatt. If that’s the case, then tell her I’m not here for that. I just want to save my friend…”

The servant frowned. “Ms. Nora, you’ve misunderstood. Let me make things clear. I don’t know where you heard that Mr. Wyatt isn’t home. But he is. He was going to go out this morning, but when he saw Madam Yunice trimming the snow–covered branches in the garden, he changed his mind.”

She added calmly, “And whether it was Madam or someone else who asked you to leave–it’s Mr. Wyatt’s will. Do you really think Madam would act on her own without his approval?”

Nora sat in stunned silence.

It wasn’t just the fact that Wyatt had canceled his plans over something Yunice did–though that was painful enough. He had always been a workaholic, never stopping for anyone, not even her.

What hit her harder was the servant’s final statement.

It was Wyatt who had told her to leave.

He was still playing the cold card. Still punishing her.

Her expression dimmed. “My friend got dragged into this because of me. If I don’t help her… I won’t be able to live with myself.”

The servant stood silently, unmoved.

Nora slowly looked up and met her gaze. She knew the servant had been left there to make sure she left.

Not wanting to make things difficult, she said, “I’ll wait further away, out of sight.”

Then she turned her wheelchair around and began rolling it slowly away from Pavilion Hall.

The servant frowned with annoyance and went back to report.

“Ma’am, Nora is still out in the snow. She refuses to leave.”

Yunice looked up. Another guilt play.

She had to admit, this tactic did work–on men anyway.

Yunice herself had used it many times.

When it came to men, there were really only a few tricks. Either they worked, or they amused.

By now, Wyatt had finished his swim, showered, and changed clothes. He walked over and glanced at Yunice, who was lounging lazily on a deck chair.

“You’re always like this,” he said. “That’s why your immune system’s so weak–no exercise.”

As he spoke, he picked up the glass on the table and took a sip.

Then he paused. “This your cup?”

She nodded.

He turned to the servant behind him. “Bring her a new one.”

But he didn’t return the used cup–he kept drinking from it.

Wyatt sat on the lounge chair opposite her and pulled out his phone to deal with some emails.

Yunice said casually, “Nora came to see you earlier. I turned her away in your name. But she’s still outside waiting.”

“In this weather, with her condition, she’ll probably faint in less than three hours.”

Wyatt frowned, took out his phone and called the Johnson family.

“Tell Duncan to come get his daughter off my doorstep immediately. Or his son’s going to pay for it.”