When the Book–Traveling Girl Meets the Reborn Girl
Chapter 506 Someone to Talk To
<b>18 </b>Pearls
Seeing him like that, Jean didn’t press further. She turned to face the other direction and said, <b>“</b><b>Yeah</b><b>, </b><b>we </b>
should head back.”
After leaving the Lawsons‘ estate, Jean quickly forgot the whole thing.
<i>To </i>me, it was just a <i>minor </i><i>detour</i>. <i>Nothing </i><i>more</i><i>. </i>
What <i>mattered </i><i>now- </i>
<i>Was </i><i>Sarah’s </i>return.
<i>If </i><i>I </i><i>counted </i><i>the </i>timeline<i>, </i>it <i>was </i><i>about </i><i>that </i><i>time</i><i>. </i>
<i>My </i><i>peaceful </i><i>years</i>… were <i>probably </i><iing </i><i>to </i><i>an </i><i>end</i><i>. </i>
A flicker of unease stirred in her chest, but she’d spent years preparing for this moment.
So after a few seconds of difort, she calmed down again,
<i>I </i><i>believed </i><i>I’d </i><i>be </i><i>fine</i>, <i>even </i><i>if </i><i>I </i><i>had </i><i>to </i><i>leave </i><i>the </i><i>Ginger family</i>.
I <i>had </i><i>money</i>. I <i>had </i><i>skills</i>.
<i>As </i><i>long </i><i>as </i><i>I </i><i>didn’t </i><i>provoke </i><i>Sarah </i><i>like </i><i>the </i><i>original </i><i>Jean </i><i>did</i><i>, </i><i>she </i><i>had </i><i>no </i><i>reason </i><i>to </i><ie </i><i>after </i><i>me</i>.
<i>The </i><i>only </i><i>thing </i><i>that </i><i>still </i><i>ached</i><i>–</i><i>is </i><i>how </i><i>hard </i><i>it </i><i>would </i><i>be </i><i>to </i><i>let </i><i>go </i><i>of </i><i>the </i><i>Gingers</i>.
<i>After </i><i>everything</i><i>, </i><i>they </i><i>aren’t </i><i>just family </i><i>to </i><i>me</i><i>. </i><i>They </i><i>are </i><i>more </i><i>than </i><i>that</i>.
<i>How </i><i>can </i><i>I </i><i>possibly </i><i>cut </i><i>them </i><i>off </i><i>like </i><i>it </i><i>is </i><i>nothing</i><i>? </i>
<i>But </i>I <i>have </i><i>no </i><i>one </i><i>to </i><i>me </i><i>but </i><i>myself</i><i>. </i>
<i>I </i><i>knew </i><i>from </i><i>the </i><i>start </i><i>that </i><i>the </i><i>smartest </i><i>move </i><i>would’ve </i><i>been </i><i>to </i><i>stay </i><i>detached</i><i>. </i><i>Just </i><i>take </i><i>their </i><i>money </i><i>and </i><i>stay </i><i>out </i><i>of </i><i>it</i>.
<i>But </i>I <i>was </i><i>the </i><i>one </i>who <i>got </i><i>too </i><i>involved</i><i>. </i><i>Who </i><i>let </i><i>myself </i><i>care </i>too <i>much</i>.
<i>Now </i><i>I </i><i>can’t </i><i>help </i><i>wondering</i><i>–</i><i>will </i><i>Mom </i><i>and </i><i>the </i><i>brothers</i>, <i>the </i><i>ones </i>who <i>treated </i><i>me </i><i>so </i><i>well</i><i>, </i><i>turn </i><i>their </i><i>backs </i><i>on </i><i>me </i><i>the </i><i>moment </i><i>Sarah </i><ies </i><i>back</i>?
<i>Blood </i><i>ties</i><i>… </i><i>they’re </i><i>powerful</i>.
The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth.
The day before SAT results were released, Jean asked Ludwig to meet up.
Over the years, they’d stayed in close contact.
Ludwig’d never once cked off from his responsibility–watching over Jean in the shadows.
Of course, he has been gone more and moretely.
The Abyssal Choir had been expanding rapidly. More members, more missions. Ludwig was often called
away.
<b>15:11 </b><b>Thu</b>, <b>10 </b><b>Jul </b>、 <b>Go </b>
Chapter 506 Someone to Talk To
Technically, Jean was still part of the Abyssal Choir too, but really… it was just in name.
<b>She </b>used to show up at meetings, at least to pretend she was still involved.
Now she didn’t even bother doing that.
The group didn’t seem to mind. No one forced her.
<i>So </i><i>far</i><i>, </i>the <i>Abyssal </i><i>Choir </i>still <i>seemed </i><i>normal</i>. <i>They </i><i>hadn’t </i><i>done </i><i>anything </i>sketchy or rming
<i>But </i>in the <i>novel</i>…
<i>They </i><i>were </i><i>a </i><i>bloodthirsty </i><i>viin </i><i>faction</i>. <i>Ruthless </i><i>and </i><i>terrifying</i><i>. </i>
<i>That </i><i>was </i><i>what </i>kept <i>nagging </i><i>at </i><i>me</i>.
<i>Right </i><i>now</i>, <i>the </i><i>Abyssal </i><i>Choir </i><i>seems </i><i>fine</i><i>. </i><i>But </i><i>what </i><i>would </i><i>cause </i><i>them </i>to spiral into chaos and violenceter on?
And <i>if </i><i>they </i><i>did</i><i>… </i><i>would </i><i>I </i>be <i>dragged </i><i>into </i><i>the </i><i>mess</i><b><i>? </i></b>
No <i>one </i><i>could </i>predict <i>that</i><i>. </i>
Still<i>, </i><i>that </i><i>wasn’t </i>why <i>I </i><i>asked </i>Ludwig <i>out </i>today.
<i>I </i><i>just</i>… <i>wanted </i><i>someone </i><i>to </i>talk to<i>. </i>
“If…” She swirled her coffee slowly, watching people pass by outside the café window. Ludwig and her sat side by side, facing the street. Her voice was casual, even teasing.
“I’m just saying if–if one day the Gingers kick me out, would you take me in?”
Ludwig’s snow–pale face didn’t show much reaction.
He turned slightly, his cool eyesnding on me.
After a short pause, the corner of his lips curved up ever so faintly. “Of course,” he said without hesitation. “You’re always wee. Anytime. If you stayed close, I could protect you more easily… though—*
He raised an eyebrow and locked eyes with Jean.
“Why would you think the Gingers would kick you out? Did something happen?”
At that, something shifted in his expression. His gaze darkened, and ayer of icy tension settled in his eyes.