Chapter 268:

🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙

“No need, I live nearby and the car can’t fit down the alley, so I’ll walk…” Carrie’s words were interrupted by her ringing phone, showing an unknown number. “Hold on,” she said to Daxton, showing him the phone and stepping aside to take the call.

“Hello, who is this?”

“Carrie, you must help Lettie!” said a voice from the other end, a middle-aged woman’s voice.

Carrie listened intently, distilling the crucial details from the long-winded tale. Lettie had crashed into Kristopher’s car, sparking a heated argument that had escalated to both of them being detained at the police station. The woman’s voice cracked, her words soaked in distress. “Carrie, I’m begging you, don’t let your husband throw my daughter into jail!”

“Relax, it’s not severe enough to warrant any jail time. It sounds like a simple misunderstanding. I’m on my way,” Carrie assured her, ending the call.

The schoolyard was eerily silent, punctuated only by the loud conversation Carrie had just had, which Daxton, standing not too far away, had inadvertently caught most of. He swung the passenger door open once more and urged, “Hop in. The station is far off, you won’t make it by foot.”

Carrie hesitated for a moment, knowing another refusal could suggest she had a problem with him. Finally, she nodded, pocketed her phone, and climbed into the car.

Upon reaching the police station, as Carrie and Daxton approached, Oliver was posted at the front, starting to greet her. “Mrs. Norris…”

But his words trailed off as his gaze shifted to Daxton, filling with wary suspicion. Carrie noticed and quickly explained, “I bumped into an old friend at the school who offered me a lift here.”

Oliver’s unease remained palpable, his voice dripping with skepticism. “Mr. Garcia went to Esterhall High School?”

Ŀ∆ŧэ$τ çнαρτєя$ íπ galnoνeℓs.com

Carrie, barely containing her annoyance, finally let it erupt. “Oliver, are you questioning me? Daxton had his own intentions visiting the school. Must I narrate every tiny detail about what my acquaintances do to you?”

Oliver, quick to adapt, bowed his head in apology. “I apologize, Mrs. Norris.”

“That was inappropriate of me.” A frosty voice cut in. “He was just asking what I want to ask. As your husband, isn’t it my right to inquire about your friends?”

Kristopher sauntered from the doorway, his hands nonchalantly tucked in his pockets. His eyes swept across Carrie’s annoyed expression and then fixed on Daxton, who stood behind her. Their gazes locked momentarily. Daxton held the stare slightly longer before turning back to Carrie, his voice gentle. “I should get going now. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Alright, thanks. Drive carefully,” Carrie responded, her tone laden with concern.

Kristopher lingered at the edge of the gathering, feeling like an outsider. His expression grew stormy. Stepping forward, he draped an arm around Carrie and remarked coldly, “Honey, your neighbor is still waiting for you inside.”

Though he spoke to Carrie, his eyes remained riveted on Daxton, his stare intense and territorial. Daxton returned Kristopher’s look with a sharp, meaningful gaze, then quickly turned and strode decisively toward his car, leaving his thoughts unreadable.

Kristopher, his fingers lingering on Carrie’s shoulder, guided her forward with a dismissive chuckle. “Bumped into an old friend, huh? You…”

Carrie briskly shrugged off his touch and retreated, widening the gap between them. “We’re nearing the end of our marriage. Be mindful of your status—you’re almost my ex, not my husband anymore. Even if I were deceived, I am an adult, fully competent to make my own decisions. Spare me your concerns, Mr. Norris.”

.

.

.