Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 579

The Ferguson family trickled out one by one, and just like that, the house was quiet again.

Simon sat alone, barely moving, until hurried footsteps echoed at the front door- Michael was back, looking rumpled and shaken. His suit was on crooked, like he'd thrown it on after hearing about Ada's death and hadn't bothered to fix it. He still seemed dazed, like he couldn't quite believe it was real.

"Simon, I'm... sorry for your loss." Michael's voice was stiff, almost formal.

He sounded more like a stranger than a father. He reached out, awkwardly, maybe to pat Simon's shoulder. Simon jerked away, not even trying to hide his disgust.

For a second, embarrassment flashed across Michael's face. If he was being honest, his mind was already wandering-wondering who he'd marry next. But with Walter already pissed about the family drama, he knew he had to keep himself in check for now.

Simon stood up, face hard and cold. He looked at Michael like he was nothing. "You take care of Mom's funeral."

Michael frowned, confused. It wasn't like planning a funeral would take that long- what could Simon possibly need to do that was so urgent?

"Simon, wait-"

But Simon was already gone, out the door before Michael could finish.

He slid into his car, lit a cigarette, and took a slow drag. The sharp taste and burn were the only things that made him feel slightly less numb inside. He finished one, then another, then a third, before pressing his hands to his face, rubbing hard until his skin stung. He felt like he was already living in hell.

But if he was going down, he'd make sure to take Clara with him.

stormed back inside. He

something behind. There had to be a clue here he just

to himself he was still Simon—the same guy who'd been clueless and

was still that foolish, proud Simon, just in over his

inch of the room and turned up

tore through drawers

you doing?" Michael

Simon had been calm, methodical. But after

stop him, but when their eyes met, he froze. There

as ever, Michael backed out

all through the night. He even tapped on the tiles and knocked along

heard a hollow sound behind one tile. Without thinking, he

with hearts and doodles, the kind only a girl like

It was

hidden the notebook so

pages, searching

he found it a small note scribbled in the corner

without hesitation-ripped the notebook to

draped in white. The staff had worked through the night, getting ready for today, when the

long as Ada hadn't divorced Michael, she was still a Ferguson. If the family didn't give her a proper send-off, people would talk—especially

downstairs, barely making it to his