Chapter 338

Theo had made it clear from the start: Tom's burns wouldn't heal simply by cleaning the surface. The real problem was the toxins in his skin's blood vessels, hindering his recovery. So, no matter how painful the detox, he had to persevere. Only by flushing out those toxins could he truly heal.

Tom heeded Theo's advice. Even when his wounds itched intensely, he resisted scratching. He'd endured so many difficult nights; he wouldn't give up now. The person who poisoned him was still at large, and he couldn't afford to falter before finding them.

Meanwhile, while Tom recovered at home, Maeve gave him a leave of absence from work. It felt strange not having him around to manage the studio.

Then, around noon, she received a call from the police. They had information about the pacifier that might be connected to her parents.

Her heart pounded on the way; she was excited but also apprehensive. However, upon arriving at the station, the officer's words chilled her to the bone.

"Ms. Reese," he said gravely, "we've discovered that the gemstone in this pacifier was part of a major international jewelry heist years ago. That case remains open, and the stolen jewelry has never been recovered."

He continued, "These items have never resurfaced. Interpol believes they're still with the original thieves. We need to know—what do you know about your biological parents?"

Maeve's face paled, and her stomach dropped. Was he implying her parents were involved in the robbery? Were they the thieves, or somehow connected to the crime?

That pacifier, which she'd considered a sweet memento, was stolen property.

"Ms. Reese, are you alright?" The officer noticed her expression and softened his tone. "We can't prove your biological parents were the robbers yet, but they definitely seem connected to this case. And to be clear, you're not a suspect. We're just following up on leads."

Maeve clenched her fists, battling the confusion swirling in her head. She met the officer's gaze. "I've never met my biological parents, so I can't believe they'd be involved in something like that."

"Plus, the Reese couple who adopted me might know something," she added, hoping for a breakthrough.

The officer nodded. "We'll look into that. Thank you for your cooperation."

Maeve forced a smile and stood to leave. It had begun to rain. Kleymond's rainy season brought a damp chill, and the wind felt icy on her face.

Standing in the downpour, she couldn't shake the officer's words. The pacifier was linked to an international crime and was stolen; it would never be returned. But because she was adopted by the Reese family, even if her biological parents were involved, she wouldn't face any repercussions. Still, a heavy feeling settled in her chest as she watched leaves swirl in the puddles. She couldn't believe her biological parents were criminals. Or maybe she just didn't want to.

Her mind raced, and she didn't wait for the rain to subside before hurrying to the parking lot. Things didn't improve—her tire was flat.

Now she needed someone to fix it, but with the heavy rain, she was stuck waiting at least an hour.

Maeve put away her phone and slumped against the steering wheel, trying to catch her breath, unsuccessfully. She got out of the car and dashed to the roadside for shelter. A car pulled up. She recognized Warren in the back seat.

"Mr. Richard?"

"Hey, Ms. Reese, what are you doing out here? You're soaked," Warren said, genuinely concerned.

Maeve wrung water from her sweater and offered a sheepish smile. "My tire is flat, and the mechanics won't come until the rain stops, so—"

"I understand," Warren replied, nodding. "Want a ride?"

"No, that's okay. I don't want to ruin your seats," Maeve said, shaking her head.

"It's fine if the seats get wet. I'm more worried about you catching a cold in those wet clothes. The flu is going around, so don't hesitate to accept help," he insisted.

Maeve didn't want to get sick. After considering it, she thanked him and got into the car. She placed a handkerchief on the seat to protect it. Warren signaled to his assistant for a towel. "Here you go, this one's clean."

"Thanks," Maeve said, taking the towel. She immediately sneezed twice.

Warren frowned. "Is your place far from here?"

"It's about a forty-minute drive," Maeve sniffed, feeling unwell.

"My company has a clothing store nearby. If you'd like, you could stop and change there," he offered.

Maeve raised an eyebrow, surprised. "You run a clothing company, Mr. Richard?"

Warren smiled, the lines around his eyes adding to his charm. "Yes, it's small, nothing too well-known. It's called Trazir."

"You're being humble. Trazir is famous worldwide. I doubt any designer hasn't heard of it," Maeve said, without exaggeration.

Trazir was a prestigious, century-old brand that once exclusively served royalty. Its exclusivity had lessened, but it remained far from accessible. She hadn't expected Warren to be behind it.

The car arrived at Trazir's Kleymond branch. Warren gave instructions to the staff, and they surrounded Maeve, guiding her to the fitting room with a warm welcome.

She chose a white knit top, an apricot cashmere skirt, and a smoky-blue coat. As she went to pay, the shop assistant smiled. "No need to worry about the bill—Mr. Richard has taken care of it." Maeve hesitated, feeling awkward, but she was soaked and needed dry clothes. After changing, she found Warren.

"Great taste. That outfit suits you perfectly," Warren said warmly. His eyes were soft, as if he saw someone else in Maeve. "You remind me a lot of my daughter. If she were still with me, she'd probably look as beautiful as you do now."

Maeve wasn't sure what to say. After a pause, she asked, "Did you start the clothing company because of her?"

She remembered his earlier mention of collecting clothes for his daughter, even though she wasn't there to wear them.

Warren nodded. "Yes. Thinking about her makes me happy. Even though she's not here, I know one day, she'll come back to me."