?Chapter 866:


    Smart people excelled at everything, and Elena’s first attempt at baking bread resulted in a soft, fragrant loaf. The smell of fresh bread filled the room.


    When the oven dinged, Elena set her coffee aside, donned oven gloves, and carefully took the bread out. Along with the bread, she had also baked a chocte cake, which she ced in the refrigerator to cool.


    Elena took the cake out of the fridge and began assembling everything into a package.


    Wesley couldn’t hold back any longer, and his voice came out a little sharper than intended. “When are you going to make something for me?” he asked.


    Elena offered him a piece of leftover bread. “Here,” she said.


    Wesley almostughed in disbelief. “Elena Harper, seriously?”


    Elena was slightly amused. Every time Wesley said her full name, she felt something strange. It was as though her name sounded different when he said it. It didn’t sound cold or distant; instead, it felt a little more personal.


    With a smile in her eyes, she held the bread close to his mouth. “Do you want a bite?” she asked.


    It was rare for her to be so openly affectionate. Wesley raised an eyebrow, pretending not to care, but his lips parted without him even thinking. “Don’t think one piece of bread will settle this. You still owe me. Make something for me when we get back.”


    Elena didn’t argue. She simply started gathering her things and headed for the door, with Wesley’s imposing figure trailing right behind her. She had fully intended to handle this little trip on her own, but Wesley had insisted on tagging along.


    Following the directions the butler had rattled off, Elena found herself standing in front of Lizzie’s ce—a dpidated old bungalow that looked like it had seen better centuries.


    It was the middle of the day, and through the cracked windows, Elena could see Lizzie’s small silhouette bustling around, clearly in the middle of making lunch.


    Discover your next read at g?lnσν????s


    Lizzie, barely tall enough to peer over the edge of the stove, was perched precariously on a wobbly chair in front of the hissing gas burner, her tiny hands maneuvering pots and pans.


    Elena’s brow furrowed with a pang of sympathy. She knew Lizzie’s family was down on their luck, but seeing their living conditionsid bare like this hit her harder than she expected.


    Lizzie’s face lit up like a Christmas tree when she spotted Elena standing in the doorway, and she hopped down from the chair with surprising agility. “Elena! What brings you all the way over here?” The bungalow was tiny, just two rooms crammed together, and from the back room, the sound of a husky cough echoed, followed by an elderly voice calling out, “Lizzie? Who is at the door?”


    Lizzie dragged over a wooden stool for Elena to sit on, calling back into the other room, “Grandma, it’s Miss Elena Harper, the one I told you about.”


    Catching sight of Wesley looming in the doorway, Elena hesitated for a split second and then reluctantly pulled over another stool for him. “Elena, have you eaten yet?” Lizzie asked, her small face earnest. “I’m just about to whip up some food. You wanna join us?”


    Elena shook her head gently, cing the small loaf of bread and the frosted cake on a nearby table. “Today’s your special day, Lizzie. Happy birthday.”


    .


    .


    .