Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change?

Chapter 940

"Look," Francis started, a hint of concern in his voice that was rare for someone of his usually stoic demeanor, "Nanson's a bright kid." Younger than Edwin Morris, a whiz in the legal field handling divorce cases-it felt like an overkill.

"By the way," Rebecca White snapped back to reality, "Mr. Johnson, you've got things to do, right? Just drop me off at the next corner." "No need," Francis shook his head, his expression softening a bit. "I'm off the clock. I'll go with you."

He was heading home; she was off to work.

"...Oh."

Rebecca White nodded, a bit dazed, realizing her shoes were still in his grasp. Embarrassed, she took them back.

"Thanks, sorry for the trouble."

"Mhm."

Francis's gaze dropped to her feet. "The heel's broken. Your foot okay? Didn't twist it, did you?"

Rebecca White paused, hurriedly tucking her foot away, shaking her head. "No, it's fine."

"Mhm."

Francis, ever the man of few words, didn't press further.

The car fell into silence.

Rebecca White held her shoes tight, anxiously wishing they'd reach Johnson Mansion soon. Being alone with him was overwhelmingly intense.

Her heart felt like it was about to burst from her chest, her palms sweaty.

was silent until

front of the main

her shoes, wincing slightly as her

twisted her ankle and hadn't told Francis

bearable, but standing made the pain all too apparent. Still, she could

looked

White quickly

briefly passing

"Come on in then."

"Ms. White!"

James came running over, launching himself at Rebecca White. "Ms. White, got a hundred percent on my

"Really? That's amazing!"

up his arms, and Rebecca White,

White, come on!

to show off and seek her

Francis's brow furrowed

had seen it clearly; Rebecca White had nearly lost her balance.

An hour later.

Rebecca White came downstairs.

James to bathe, and it was time for

her

swno

step.

the ground floor, she let out a

"Ms. White."