Chapter 478

When the elevator doors closed, Archer called Molly aside and reprimanded her. The others in the secretary's office also felt a lingering fear witnessing this.

"She's really… forget it. Fortunately, Ms. Reese is here. Otherwise, Mr. McDaniel definitely wouldn't let her off so easily," one whispered.

"Well, it's fine if she made a mistake, but it's better if she doesn't implicate us…" another added.

After visiting Gilbert at the hospital, Byron took Maeve to the amusement park. It was an amusement park. Maeve had wanted to go as a child, but her foster parents only took Horace. When she grew up and earned money, she didn't want to go because she was alone.

The place was reserved. Only the project staff and roadside vendors were present; they didn't even have to queue. It was already 10:30 p.m. by the time they finished.

After getting off the ride, Maeve looked at Byron's pale face and whispered, "Byron, so this is what you're afraid of."

Byron pursed his lips slightly and glanced at her indifferently, saying nothing.

"If you had told me earlier you couldn't play this, we wouldn't have," Maeve whispered. "You hurt my hand just now. You aren't coming to the amusement park for the first time, are you?"

"Maeve, shut up," Byron said.

"Oh."

Maeve was in a good mood after discovering Byron's weakness. The unpleasantness at McDaniel Group faded from her mind.

When they returned to Nightfall Manor, Will and Theo were asleep, their heads close together. Maeve closed their door and went downstairs for a glass of milk for Byron. She brought it to his study and gave him his package.

Byron rubbed his temples. The stomach discomfort from the ride hadn't subsided, and his expression remained grim. He pointed to the sofa. "Help yourself."

"Remember to drink the milk. I'm going back to my room," Maeve said, happily carrying her package.

Byron took two sips of milk. When he thought of the package's contents, he frowned. That notebook…

Maeve returned to her room and eagerly opened the package, emptying its contents onto the floor. She sat on the carpet and began to look through them. She wanted to see if she could find the reason for her blurry memories.

She flipped through the items and saw the notebook. The contents made her frown. 'Help, did I really write this? What was I thinking, writing such insipid words? Byron must have read it, too,' she thought, her face heating up. She almost threw the notebook away.

Hastily, she put it back at the bottom of the box and repacked everything. Then a piece of paper fell from a romance novel.

Maeve stared, stunned.

[Kid, if you really want to pursue me, bring the acceptance letter from Kleymond University. Don't bother with anything else.]

The words were fluent, stylistically unique, obviously written by a male student.

Maeve's mind went blank. As her fingertips touched the yellowed paper, tears welled up. Blurry images flashed through her mind.

"Maeve."

The voice was so familiar she couldn't tell if it was a memory or reality.

Byron slowly entered, his gaze falling on Maeve's tear-stained face. He met her distant gaze, his expression turning cold. 'She's actually crying. Does the notebook make her so sad and nostalgic?' he thought.

Byron's black eyes shone coldly. He approached, pinched her chin, and said coldly, "Maeve, look at me and see who I am." 'She dares to treat me as someone else,' he thought.

Maeve snapped back to reality, realizing something was wrong. She explained hoarsely, "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. I suddenly feel unwell." 'It isn't just unwell. It's as if a part of my heart has been hollowed out,' she thought.

Byron's lips tightened. The anger in his eyes was icy, ruthless, and terrifying. "Didn't you forget his name? You're crying like this. Are you trying to tell me you still have feelings for him?"

"I didn't…"

"You didn't?" Byron rubbed the wetness on her cheeks and mocked, "Then what is this?"

Maeve was speechless. Her chaotic thoughts were a tangled mess, a dead knot she couldn't untangle.

Her silence was tacit agreement.

The coldness in Byron's eyes was palpable. The gentleness from an hour ago was gone.

Byron would have been jealous of Maeve's past, but he wouldn't have minded. That man was in the past, unworthy of his attention.

But now, Byron minded. Maeve still held that man in her heart, something he couldn't tolerate.

Byron released her chin, his expression cold. He saw the box from the corner of his eye, picked it up, and started to walk out.

Maeve instinctively grabbed his sleeve. "What are you doing?"

"Burning them," Byron said, his voice icy. "These things are in my way."

Maeve choked, feeling the paper under her leg burning.

"Byron, I…"

Byron's mocking eyes interrupted her. "Don't tell me you think I can tolerate you keeping these mementos of another man and missing him? Maeve, I'm not that selfless." His words sent a bone-chilling coldness through her; her back trembled.

Byron left. Maeve chased after him.

"Wait!" She almost couldn't catch him, but she leaped onto his back, forcing him to stop. "Give me back the other things. I'll keep the notebook. I'll never look at it again, alright?"

Byron brushed her hand away, his expression cold. "Why should I keep this trash?"

"These are my high school memories. I want to keep them…" Maeve was angry, meeting his mocking gaze. "I just want to keep them as mementos. It's not as gentle and caring as you keeping your first love by your side, right?" She regretted it instantly.

Byron's face was icy. His gaze lacked warmth; the pressure was suffocating. The air froze. Cold wind pricked Maeve's neck, making her shiver.

"Maeve, you're willing to go all out for these things."

Byron sarcastically finished, dropping the box. He looked at her coldly. "Do whatever you want." Chapter 479