Chapter 162
Allison hadn't anticipated Kellan's sharp eye for detail. The comics he identified were from years ago. Even Garry had struggled to be certain, yet Kellan seemed unwavering in his confidence as he pinpointed them with ease. Still, Allison saw no reason to conceal such a trivial matter.
"Yes, those are mine," she replied casually. "Just some old sketches from my time in Leswington."
Kellan paused, momentarily stunned, before responding, "So, Ms. Clarke, you're actually Hedwig?"
Allison raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Lloyd, I didn't expect you to know about that, let alone have read my works."
"It was a coincidence," Kellan said, his voice softening. "During the Perfumery Competition in Leswington, I came across your comics. They were… comforting, warm. I even thought about tracking you down."
His expression remained unreadable, but the emotions in his words were unmistakable. "I searched for the artist for so long, never realizing it was you, right in front of me all this time." His voice, deep and resonant like the low notes of a violin, lingered in the air. As he spoke, he seemed lost in reflection, recalling the tangled history that had first brought them together—a one-night stand that had evolved into something far more complex.
The more he learned about Allison, the more he realized how many secrets she harbored. What intrigued him most, though, was how similar their souls seemed to be. Pottery. Comics. Everything about her drew him in.
"Quite a coincidence," Allison mused with a small smile. She hadn't expected to be connected to him before they even met. Perhaps, years ago, on the streets of Velonia, the capital of Leswington, Kellan had stumbled across one of her comics without realizing it was hers. Their paths had already crossed through her art. There had been other near misses, like the Perfumery Competition, where they'd passed by each other, masked and unaware. All these small moments had led them here, like fate weaving their lives together.
But then Allison caught herself, mocking her own thoughts. "Fate?" She had once believed in destiny with Colton, too. Yet, after three years of being entangled with him, it had all ended in bitter disappointment.
Shaking off the thought, Allison stood. "Is Lorna around? I need to finish the pottery we started."
At the mention of his niece, Kellan's expression darkened. "The rain's been relentless, and thunderstorms hit a while back. Since then, Lorna's been having more episodes. When you were here, she improved, but now… she's locked herself in the closet again, refusing to eat or let anyone near her." Kellan's fingers tightened around the newspaper in his lap. Despite consulting countless specialists over the years, nothing had worked. He felt helpless.
"She's on medication," Kellan continued, his voice low. "But the trauma from her past… it runs deep. Recovery will take time."
Allison's heart tightened at the mention of Lorna. Though she didn't fully understand the connection between the rain and Lorna's trauma, she had grown fond of the talented girl. After a moment, she suggested, "Why not take her to the MDH Research Institute abroad? They have the best mental health specialists and state-of-the-art equipment."
Her suggestion wasn't just out of concern for Lorna; if she could earn Kellan's trust by helping his niece, perhaps it would also pave the way to help his grandmother, and in doing so, she might uncover more clues about her mother's whereabouts.
Kellan's fingers drummed absently on his knee. "I've already contacted them. Originally, it was for my migraines, but they're fully booked for the year. They're not accepting non-members." He looked at her, his gaze serious. "If you have a way, Ms. Clarke, I'll owe you. Anything you need, name it."
Allison waved him off with a slight smile. "No need for that, Mr. Lloyd. It's just a small favor." She paused. "We were just talking about the absurdity of fate. As it happens, I have a membership with MDH. Consider it a gift for Lorna."
Kellan's eyes darkened with thought. "Whether or not Lorna recovers, the Lloyd family owes you. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask." Kellan knew just how exclusive access to MDH was—only the top elite in Vrining held memberships. But he sensed that Allison wasn't ready to reveal more about herself. He wouldn't push. Trust, after all, took time.
The next day, after arranging Lorna's trip to Vrining, Allison gathered her things and headed to the Lloyd residence. "Lorna?" she called softly toward the closet where the girl had hidden herself. In her hand, Allison held a small ceramic doll, crafted in Lorna's likeness, delicate and beautifully made.
The closet door creaked open slowly, and Lorna's eyes peeked out, cautious but focused on the doll. A hint of softness broke through her guarded expression.
"Lorna, why don't we play with the ceramic dolls?" Allison suggested gently. "I remember you wrote in your journal that you wanted to sculpt the person you miss the most."
Something flickered in Lorna's eyes—an old memory, perhaps. She hesitated but then gave a small nod, mouthing words that didn't quite reach the air. Though Lorna hadn't spoken, Allison understood immediately. What she wanted to say was, "Daddy!"