After the Divorce: Crushed on My Lawyer Ex-wife

#86 “How do you know my grandfather?”

Sophia scrutinized the man with a keen eye, her gaze taking in every detail. He was cloaked in a long black coat, and a hat cast a shadow over half of his face. Nothing about his appearance rang familiar, and an unsettling feeling gnawed at her.

A furrowed brow accentuated her suspicion as she inquired, “How do you know my grandfather?”

The man’s reply was curt, offering no explanation. “That’s not important now. He wanted me to meet you and give you a message.”

Sophia didn’t appreciate his evasive response; it only heightened her wariness. “Then tell me the message,” she shot back sharply. Unfazed by her skepticism, he continued, “Not here. We need to go to a more secluded place to…”

Sophia cut him off abruptly. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

A cold, enigmatic smile played upon the man’s lips. He produced a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket, hastily scribbling down something.

address on this sheet. It’s where your grandfather resided in London three years ago. And when you realize I’m telling the

skepticism turning into curiosity. Before departing, the man issued a parting message.

quickly as he had appeared, he disappeared into the bustling crowd of people. Sophia held the piece of paper, staring at the address with a

After a quick taxi ride back to her hotel, she found herself unable to enjoy the rest of the day. The mysterious address on the paper was like

note clutched in her hand, she ordered a room service of coffee and muffins. These creature comforts would keep her alert and focused as she delved into the mystery

the street name given by the stranger. Her eyes scanned through various results, bringing up pictures of the most

knew that the address alone wouldn’t suffice; she needed more information to

the website of London’s town planning. It was a meticulous process, navigating through bureaucratic databases, property

to confirm the existence of an old man named Christopher Johnson connected to the address she had been

sense of anticipation, she drafted a text message and sent it to the phone

as she received the stranger’s concise response: “Wait for me there.” A smile of satisfaction

for the stranger. She looked around the building from the outside. There was nothing special about it,

arrival disrupted the silence that had settled around the

the very walls exhaled the passage of time, exhaling the stories they held within. Sophia’s eyes scanned the dark room, its once vibrant colors now faded, and cobwebs clung to forgotten corners. The place felt frozen in an era long

her search, each step echoing through

wooden floors creaked underfoot, complaining about the intrusion, as Sophia meticulously examined the spaces, her fingers tracing patterns in the dust.