?Chapter 832:


    “Sophia?”


    “What are you talking about?”


    Chris’ words caused another wave of murmuring in the room.


    A faint change passed over the faces of some older guests and art collectors as soon as they heard that name. Hearing it seemed to stir something deep in their memories, as if old stories had suddenlye back to life.


    After a brief pause, though, they dismissed the thought with a shake of their heads. Surely it wasn’t her. Most likely, it was only a case of two people sharing the same name.


    At that point, nearly everyone there had no clue what was going on. They leaned toward each other and murmured, puzzled and unsure.


    “Sophia? That doesn’t ring a bell.”


    “So what if we know her name?”


    “He thinks just bringing up that name is enough for us to dig up her picture?”


    “He doesn’t even have a photo of his mom, but throws a name at us? What a strange dude!”


    As soon as Maia caught the name “Sophia,” her eyes lit up in shock. It hit her — Chris had never brought up that name, not even once. Maybe the headache had jogged Chris’ memory — not just her face, but other things too?


    She squinted slightly as an idea popped into her head. Perhaps that bit of shrapnel stuck in Chris’ head had shifted somehow. He really had to see Lenny again — to get another scan and find out where the fragment had ended up.


    If fate cut them some ck, the operation might not be so dangerous anymore. Chris could finally be free of this long-standing problem. The very idea fired Maia up. She felt like grabbing Chris by the arm and marching straight to the hospital.


    Right then, a woman’s voice broke through the air, sharp with urgency. “Wait!”


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    All heads turned in unison. Every gazended on the woman who had spoken. Alice pushed her way out from the group. Her face looked more solemn than anyone had ever seen before.


    “Chris, you mentioned your mother, Nic, also went by Sophia,” she said. “But that name’s not exactly unique. Is there anything else you can recall about her?”<fn570b> ???? ????s? ???????s ?? FιndNovel</fn570b>


    She gave him a gentle nudge and added, “Can you think a bit more? Maybe something wille back to you. Did your mom ever go to Otruitho? Was she into painting or anything like that?”


    Chris knitted his eyebrows together, clearly struggling to remember. His hand went up to his temple as if by habit, as if it helped him think. But surprisingly, it didn’t take him that long this time.


    Before long, he answered calmly, “My memory’s still a bit fuzzy, but I’m pretty sure she had been to Otruitho. I remember seeing her paint a lot when I was a child.”


    Alice’s eyes sparkled with sudden energy. It seemed like she was standing on the edge of a breakthrough, just one small clue away from cracking the whole thing open.


    Eagerly, she leaned in and asked, “Can you picture how she used to sign her paintings? Do you think you could jot it down for us?”


    As soon as she spoke, a few older folks in the crowd — especially the art collectors — appeared to catch the drift and stepped in to get a better look. One person, quick on the uptake, passed Chris a pen and a small notebook without saying a word.


    Chris flipped the notebook open, grabbed the pen, and let his mind drift back to the days when he was small. Then, at a slow pace, he started writing.


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