Better Late, But Never His Again novel Chapter 164

She pulled out the letter and unfolded it. The moment she read the first two words, the tears finally spilled over.

The letter was incredibly short. By the time Charles reached the end of the page, his hand had been shaking so violently that the writing was barely legible.

But every single stroke of Queenie's name was written slowly and deliberately, as if he had poured every last ounce of his remaining strength into those letters.

Queenie finished reading, carefully folded the paper, and slipped it back into the envelope. A lone tear escaped the corner of her eye, tracing the curve of her cheek down to her chin.

"I didn't expect that old fool to think so far ahead," Queenie joked through a teary smile, feigning annoyance.

But Hazel knew exactly how shattered she was.

Hazel stood up, walked over, and sat beside her, pulling the older woman into a tight embrace.

Queenie's shoulders felt incredibly fragile; Hazel could feel her distinct collarbones through the soft fabric of her cardigan. Queenie didn't make a sound, but Hazel felt her own shoulder growing damp with tears.

"Don't be sad. He is in a better place now. He was such a good, kind man. He has surely found peace. We who are left behind have to keep looking forward."

Queenie patted Hazel's hand, comforting her in return. "It's alright. Don't worry about me, Hazel."

She sat up, wiped her eyes, and placed the letter on the coffee table. Her expression suddenly shifted to one of intense seriousness as she looked at Hazel.

"Who is the man your mentor mentioned in the letter? The one who saved him back then."

"We've both met him."

Queenie looked stunned. "I haven't met him."

Hazel sighed. "It's Zachary Ward. The man who was injured last time."

Queenie looked bewildered, then surprised. Her brow smoothed out before furrowing slightly again. "Oh, it's him."

"Professor Finch said he left something with him. I need to go retrieve it tomorrow," Hazel explained.

Hazel spaced out for a fraction of a second. The morning sun slipped through the gaps between the rooftops, casting a golden glow over his profile. She almost blurted out 'Marcus'.

Zachary stopped in front of her. His gaze swept over her face, his expression as flat and unreadable as ever. "Do you need something?"

Hazel snapped back to reality. "Zachary, where have you been?"

"Do you need something?" His voice was as cold as his expression. "If not, I have work to do."

Hazel didn't hesitate anymore and brought up her mentor.

"My mentor said he left something with you. Can I have it back now?"

Zachary glanced at her, his eyes resting on her face for a long second. Then he pulled out his keys, unlocked the padlock, and pushed the door open. He left it slightly ajar, and Hazel followed him inside.

The shop looked exactly as she remembered. Zachary dropped his heavy toolbox onto the floor, grabbed a rag, and started wiping down the counter, showing zero intention of giving her an actual answer.