Chapter 76:

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On Saturday, Allison arrived at the Lloyd Mansion, ready to begin her new role as a tutor. As she took in her surroundings, she teased Kellan, “What a magnificent home you have, Mr. Lloyd. Honestly, any butler could have shown me around. I’m just a tutor; there’s no need to roll out the red carpet for me.”

“For an ordinary tutor, perhaps,” Kellan replied, pausing for a moment before continuing. “But you are anything but ordinary. Besides, Lorna is shy around strangers. My presence will help her feel more at ease.”

Lorna Lloyd, the little princess of the Lloyd family, had her sculpture room nestled right next to Kellan’s bedroom. The way the room was arranged spoke volumes about the time Lorna dedicated to her craft. The window opened to a garden bursting with roses, where a swing swayed gently in the breeze. Every detail reflected a meticulous thought process. As soon as Allison pushed the door open, she spotted a small child with a bun in her hair, crouched in the corner, diligently working on a mold amid an array of sculpting tools.

Lorna was so absorbed in her task that she didn’t even notice the door creak open.

“Is your niece on the spectrum?” Allison asked gently.

“No,” Kellan replied, his expression darkening momentarily. “Lorna is my younger brother’s daughter. He passed away, which caused her psychological trauma. The doctors diagnosed her with reactive autism.”

At the mention of his brother’s death, a flash of anger flickered across Kellan’s face, quickly masked by a stoic calm. The shift was brief, but Allison noticed it.

“I understand,” Allison said thoughtfully.

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Allison knew that Kellan’s brother had been a business prodigy, tragically falling victim to the mafia in Leswington. It was a heartbreaking chapter in their family’s history.

Children like Lorna, who developed autism as a result of trauma, often had heightened sensitivity compared to those who were born with the condition. Allison realized she needed to tread carefully. She couldn’t afford to trigger any of Lorna’s emotional walls, or her teaching efforts could backfire.

“You will only need to come by on Saturdays and Sundays. I will pay you eight thousand a month,” Kellan said, seemingly eager to avoid dwelling on his brother’s death. He absently twisted the ruby ring on his finger and gestured toward the room. “Please, Ms. Clarke.”

“Eight thousand for just eight days a month? Mr. Lloyd, you certainly don’t skimp,” Allison quipped, though the salary wasn’t her primary concern.

Kellan, however, met her gaze with seriousness. “You were Mr. Welsh’s teacher, and even his sculpture lessons are priceless. You certainly deserve this rate.”

Unlike Colton, who often doubted her, Kellan, though cautious and skeptical, was quick to trust once he recognized someone’s worth. He not only had faith in Allison’s ability to teach Lorna, but he also held her in high regard, as reflected in her generous pay.

“Don’t worry, I will teach her well,” Allison replied with a nod, her gaze drifting toward the quiet girl in the corner. She slowly approached Lorna, crouching beside her and silently observing the ceramic piece in Lorna’s small hands.

Once Allison sensed that Lorna was comfortable with her presence, she reached for a nearby pottery tool, grabbed a small piece of clay, and began working on it herself.

Kellan watched them quietly from his wheelchair. Sunlight streamed into the room, bringing with it the faint fragrance of blooming roses from the garden. The atmosphere was tranquil, filling the space with a sense of peace that made it easy to relax.

Kellan had not set his sights too high. He simply wanted Lorna to connect with others, to take her time, and to feel less hesitant around people.

But Allison was already surpassing his expectations.

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