Just as Stella considered the possibility that the call was a mistake, Matthew’s voice, subdued and hesitant, finally pierced the silence.
“How’s your mom? Is she okay?”
Her response was cool, distant. “She’s fine.”
Intent on hanging up, her mind a whirlwind of mixed feelings, Stella reached for the “end call” button. She wasn’t in the mood for explanations or small talk.
Matthew, picking up on her impatience, quickly interjected, “Stella, hold on. Are you back in Prosper Bay yet?”
Her patience wearing thin, Stella answered tersely, “It’s late, Matthew. I’m not up for a chat. Let’s continue this tomorrow.”
Detecting the frost in her tone, Matthew hastened to clarify, his words tumbling out in urgency. “Robin wasn’t released by me. When I got to the station today, the Wheeler family had already picked him up.”
When he began to explain, a wave of relief washed over Stella, softening her initial frustration. Maybe, just maybe, there was a misunderstanding after all.
But as Matthew finished explaining, the flicker of hope that had briefly warmed Stella’s heart was brutally snuffed out, plunging her mood into darkness.
She knew the evidence she had provided when sending Robin to the police station was incontrovertible. There was no way the police would have released him without solid reasons. Moreover, the Wheeler family’s influence had waned; in Seamarsh, they lacked the clout to secure Robin’s release.
It became clear to her: Matthew was fabricating this story.
Yet, her reply was icy, a simple, “I see.”
Matthew sensed the skepticism woven through her two words and pressed further. “You don’t believe me?”
Stella inhaled deeply, an effort to steady her swirling emotions.
“Seeing is believing. I saw Robin having dinner with you. That’s the undeniable truth.”
The words were out before she could temper them, and regret washed over her immediately. She had hoped for a meaningful dialogue, not this sharp exchange.
Feeling as though she were a stranger to herself, driven by raw emotions, Stella’s discomfort grew. Matthew’s silence on the other end was telling.
With a mix of frustration and resignation, she clenched her jaw and ended the call. Only then did she notice the tears that had begun to fall-a silent testament to the turmoil within.
The following morning, Stella did her utmost to steady her nerves and went to work as if nothing had happened.
The seed planted by Bella’s suggestion the night before had taken root, and Stella found herself seriously contemplating the idea of opening a brick-and-mortar store to elevate her brand.
Despite this newfound enthusiasm, the shadows of last night’s unsettling events lingered; Stella decided to maintain a cautious distance from Matthew for the time being.
Upon reaching the studio, she wasted no time in scouting for the perfect commercial space nearby.
She meandered through the streets, meticulously examining each potential spot and probing into the leasing terms. Yet, all morning, the spaces proved either too cramped or poorly situated. As noon approached, her quest remained fruitless.
Back in the studio, Stella perched hesitantly at her desk. She remembered a promising spot on Frost Avenue, a property under the Prosperity Group’s banner.