Byron didn't take the phone from Maeve. Instead, he picked up a book written in Latarian, sat on the sofa, and said casually, "Help me set this up." Maeve was stunned. "You want me to do it? Aren't you afraid I'll spy on your phone?"

Byron flipped through the book and said calmly, "Do it, and I'll punish you dearly."

Maeve was speechless. She wanted to throw his phone at him but restrained herself. "What numbers do you like?"

"I've got no preferences."

"What about your birthday?"

"When is it?"

"I never celebrate."

Maeve fell silent again. If Byron's expression hadn't been so calm, and if he hadn't seemed to be joking, Maeve would have suspected he was teasing her. But, considering he hadn't lived with his parents since childhood, it was likely he didn't celebrate his birthday. Maeve frowned, thinking hard. She suddenly remembered something Bonnie had done before—spelling things out on a number pad. 'I'll use that,' she thought. After doing so, she said, "Mr. McDaniel, I've set it up for you. The password is 436838."

Byron looked at her in confusion. "Is there a special meaning to these numbers?"

"No," Maeve said, pretending to be calm. "It's just easy to remember." She wanted it to be a secret.

"Okay." Byron slowly looked away and asked casually, "Did you meet Karen outside just now?"

Maeve placed Byron's phone on the table and thought for a moment before saying, "Yes, I bumped into her by accident. Does she know someone who is hospitalized?" Karen wasn't wearing a hospital gown; she didn't seem sick or hospitalized.

Byron nodded. "Her father had a sudden cerebral infarction last Friday night and was sent to this hospital for emergency treatment."

Maeve thought of something. "You were there too?"

"Why else would I be missing? I didn't even call you." Byron's voice was low. "I wanted to tell you to postpone dinner, but Patrick's surgery had just ended, so I didn't have time."

Maeve was stunned. She wondered if that was Byron's explanation. She remembered waiting all day, her worry and disappointment. Her resentment lessened considerably. Since Byron had lived in the Booth family residence since childhood, he probably considered Patrick family. It was understandable that he couldn't leave when his family was hospitalized with a cerebral infarction. If he had told her then, she would have understood. However, Karen's call had caused a misunderstanding. Maeve had thought he and Karen were on a date, and that's why he missed their appointment.

Maeve lowered her eyes and said softly, "Mr. McDaniel, next time something like this happens, can you at least send me a message? I know you were very anxious, but I called you many times that day, and you didn't answer. I thought something had happened to you. It wasn't a pleasant feeling."

Byron suddenly looked up at Maeve's quiet face. "You called me many times? Not just once?"

Maeve was puzzled. "No way. I'd been calling you since morning that day, but no one picked up."

Byron's expression darkened. His phone had been on silent that day, so he didn't know she had called. But Maeve had no reason to lie about such a trivial matter. Only one possibility remained: Karen had erased the record of Maeve's calls.

A cold look flashed across Byron's eyes. When he saw Maeve's stunned expression, he felt suffocated. His Adam's apple bobbed slightly as he said in a deep voice, "I'm sorry."

Maeve's shoulders trembled. The grievances and resentment she had suppressed that day seemed to return. Tears welled up in her eyes.

She forcibly held back her tears and pretended to be calm as she said, "Mr. McDaniel, sometimes an apology simply isn't enough."

Maeve was no longer angry. She just wanted to take advantage of Byron and get him to buy her drinks for a week.

Unexpectedly, Byron got up from the sofa and walked over to her. He picked up the phone on the table and fidgeted with it, ignoring her.

Maeve was stunned. She thought, 'He's not even going to buy me drinks this time?'

Just as she was feeling depressed, Byron's phone suddenly appeared in front of her. He said slowly, "Put in your fingerprint."

"W-why?" Maeve's heart skipped a beat. She wondered if he knew what this meant. Even if they were a couple, not everyone was willing to share their fingerprint password. Everyone needed privacy. Maeve didn't expect Byron to do this. Byron's dark eyes met hers. "Didn't you want to look at my phone just now? Now, you can look through it whenever you want."

Maeve's heart pounded. Her palms were covered in sweat. Byron's gaze was turbulent. After looking at him for a long time, she seemed to fall deeper in love with him. [The sentence about searching a website is inappropriate and has been removed.]

Maeve lowered her eyes in a panic and bit her lip as she entered her fingerprints. Since he had said so, if she looked through his phone next time, he couldn't punish her.

With that in mind, Maeve said confidently, "Can I look through it now?"

Byron answered lazily, "If you like."

Maeve boldly browsed his phone records. However, she realized that only one record of her dozens of calls that day existed. His WhatsApp history was even more ridiculous; there was no sign of her messages. Since Byron showed her his phone, it meant he hadn't deleted them.

Maeve thought of Karen. That was the only possibility. She thought, 'Did Karen dislike my messaging Mr. McDaniel? Did she delete all my calls and messages?' Maeve frowned and stopped thinking about it. She opened the photo album. There were only a few photos of documents; pitifully few.

"Mr. McDaniel, don't you usually take selfies or landscape photos?" Maeve found it strange. With Byron's impeccable face, it would be a waste not to take selfies. Byron replied, "Why would I do something so boring?"

Maeve was speechless. By his definition, she was the boring one.

Maeve was about to exit the photo album when she noticed a person in the last photo, easily overlooked. It was Karen, holding a coffee cup, with a gentle smile. The photo was taken from a distance; Karen wasn't looking at the camera. It seemed to have been taken secretly. Maeve's heart ached as if doused with cold water. Byron, who seemed disinterested in taking photos, secretly took photos of others. The photograph was taken six months ago. He was probably dating Karen then. Maeve pursed her lips and pretended not to see the photo. After exiting, she returned the phone to Byron.

"You're done?" Byron asked.

"Yeah," Maeve said.

Byron's thin lips curled up. He lowered his gaze and asked, "You know, since I let you input your fingerprints into my phone, shouldn't you let me do the same for yours?"

Maeve thought of the backup drawings in her photo album—their wilder, more explicit style and form—and immediately hesitated. If Byron accidentally saw them, she would die from embarrassment.