Chapter 297

Rosalind lifted her hand and rapped lightly on the weathered wooden door.

The door swung open almost immediately, revealing not Everett but a young girl instead.

The girl studied Rosalind with open curiosity. "Who are you looking for?"

Rosalind guessed this must be Everett's younger sister Lillian, judging by her school uniform.

Lillian was slender with a high ponytail that bounced as she moved. Her bright eyes sparkled with youthful energy, carrying that same magnetic quality Rosalind had noticed in Everett.

An instant warmth spread through Rosalind's chest. She smiled gently. "Hello, I'm Rosalind, a friend of Everett's from university. Is he home?"

Lillian shook her head. "He's not back yet."

It was already late evening. Where could he be?

Just then, Margaret Sinclair appeared behind Lillian. "You're Everett's classmate? Please come in and wait."

Rosalind observed Margaret. The woman's milky white eyes and silver-streaked hair spoke of years lived, yet her gentle smile radiated kindness. Rosalind could see traces of the beauty she must have been in her youth.

Stepping inside, Rosalind greeted her. "Good evening, Mrs. Sinclair."

Margaret beamed. "Make yourself comfortable, dear. Everett should return soon."

The modest apartment was impeccably clean. Rosalind noticed fresh gardenias floating in a glass jar on the windowsill - a fragrant oasis in this dimly lit alley.

As she took in the cozy space, the front door creaked open.

Everett stood framed in the doorway, his towering 6'2" figure nearly filling the entrance. Dressed entirely in black, his sharp jawline and close-cropped hair gave him a dangerous edge that made Rosalind's pulse quicken.

Margaret brightened. "Everett! You have a visitor from school."

Those piercing dark eyes swept over Rosalind with unsettling intensity.

Rosalind stood abruptly, suddenly understanding why girls whispered about him in hushed tones. "Everett, I'm Rosalind. You saved me last night. I came to return your jacket and thank you properly."

Everett's expression remained impassive as he glanced at the expensive gifts she'd brought. "Finished? Take your things and go."

Rosalind blinked in surprise.

His coldness was like a physical barrier.

Margaret immediately scolded, "Everett Sinclair! Mind your manners. Rosalind, please ignore him. He's never known how to talk to girls properly. Stay for dinner - it's almost ready."

Rosalind studied Everett's stony face. Bad with girls? That couldn't be right - campus gossip painted a very different picture.

Lillian piped up, "I like Rosalind, Ev. Let her stay!"

Everett's gaze softened slightly as he ruffled his sister's hair. "Hungry? I'll make your favorite braised ribs."

Rosalind noticed the grocery bag in his hand. She hadn't expected someone like Everett to cook.

Without another glance her way, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Margaret called after him, "Let me handle dinner, son."

"Rest, Mom," came his deep reply.

Rosalind lingered near the kitchen doorway, watching Everett move with surprising grace. His long fingers handled the spatula with practiced ease, muscles flexing beneath his thin shirt with each precise movement. There was something mesmerizing about his controlled power.