Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 365

Theodore said nothing. The anger he'd shown earlier in front of Larson had vanished, leaving only a deep, raw ache in his eyes as he looked toward Emma, sitting in the car.

Emma didn't even glance back. She'd heard Larson's words, though—wasn't letting her go the usual routine by now?

The heart that had once ached, time and again, from being cast aside for Theodore's sake felt nothing this time. Not numbness—just a quiet emptiness.

"Larson, let's go. Don't waste time talking to him," she called from the back seat, impatience in her voice.

Larson had a pretty good idea what was eating at Theodore. He just shot him a crooked smile and added with a taunting edge, "Good luck, Mr. Whitman."

Theodore stared back, not quite understanding what Larson meant. He watched in a daze as Larson climbed into the driver's seat and sped off with Emma—leaving nothing but the dust behind.

Why did Larson always seem to know everything? And what exactly did he mean by that parting remark? What did he know this time?

As Larson's car disappeared down the street, Hanley rushed out in a panic. He only caught a glimpse of the car's taillights before it vanished altogether.

Hanley stomped his foot in frustration. "Theo, why didn't you stop Mr. Rossi? You should've talked to him—really talked!"

Theodore didn't respond, just held out his hand. "Give me your keys. I need to borrow your car."

Hanley handed them over, still fretting. "Did you mention the company to him? Did you talk about what's going on?"

Theodore just took the keys and got in the car.

"Hey, where are you going? What am I supposed to do if you take my car? How am I supposed to get home?" Hanley called, chasing after him, but the only answer was the roar of the engine as Theodore pulled away.

Within moments, he too was gone.

Hanley trudged back to the kitchen table, spirits low, mind still tangled up in company troubles. He turned to Ackerly with a sigh, "Cousin, if Mr. Rossi comes by to buy tea again, let me know, alright?"

"These were all Alfven's favorites when he was little," she'd say.

So, when Emma walked into the house and saw Grandma bustling around the dining room, she quietly snuck up and gave her a hug from behind. "Grandma, are you whipping up something special for Aunt Alfven again?"

Grandma turned and caught her in a warm embrace, grinning. "Teasing your old grandma again, aren't you?"

"Who, me?" Emma grinned back. "Actually, I wish you'd prepare even more! With my big brother as your pack mule, I get to tag along and enjoy all the goodies. Besides, I'll need something decent to eat over there in the so-called culinary wasteland!"

Grandma's face fell at that. "Culinary wasteland, huh?" She glanced at Larson. "No wonder you're so skinny, young man. Haven't been eating well, have you?"

Larson laughed. "Grandma, I'm not skinny. I'll have you know, plenty of girls like my build! Sure, the food abroad isn't as good as here in Cresthaven, but I won't starve."

But Grandma wasn't letting him off the hook that easily. "If you're so popular with the girls, where's your girlfriend then?"