She Turned Her Grief Into Wings novel Chapter 33

The car pulled smoothly to a stop in front of the hospital, and Aiken's low voice broke the silence. "We're here, Ms. Sutton."

Helga snapped out of her thoughts, thanked him, and opened the door to step out.

Caden had never cared about design events. How could a man running a financial empire suddenly take an interest in fashion?

For a man who never wore his emotions on his sleeve, acting that way in front of her proved he was deeply invested in this.

And there was no one else it could be about but Shera.

Her woman's intuition screamed that his relationship with Shera wasn't as strictly business as it seemed.

Helga's grip on the thermal container tightened until her knuckles turned white.

She couldn't just sit back and do nothing. Caden couldn't be allowed to have another woman in his heart.

——

After four days of relentless work, she finally finished the elegant capelet the day before the anniversary.

Perhaps because she hadn't touched a needle so intensely in years, her fingertips were practically raw and heavily pricked.

Shera frowned. "I've gotten too used to a comfortable life. I've almost forgotten how to make a living."

She had started learning how to make clothes from her father when she was twelve. Likely inheriting his talent, she was naturally gifted at both hand-sewing and machine work. Even as a little girl, she used to make scrunchies and sleeves to sell at school.

Kids didn't have much allowance, so most items went for fifty cents or a dollar, maxing out at three.

By middle school, she started taking her classmates' uniform pants home to tailor them. Rolled cuffs and cropped hems were the trend, and every time new uniforms were issued, Shera was flooded with "orders." Even the teachers constantly asked her to alter their clothes, and her classmates always praised her business sense.

Later, she taught herself to sketch simple dresses, tweaking designs based on her friends' requests and posting them on the school bulletin board. Soon, girls from neighboring schools were placing orders, too.

Earning ten or twenty bucks at a time, she not only covered all her and Rhys's school fees but frequently chipped in for household expenses.

The neighbors always joked that Rhys had practically been raised by Shera.

During summer and winter breaks, she would sneak into the garment factory where her father worked to pick up new techniques. The factory supervisor noticed her sheer talent and strongly advised her to attend a design academy.

She got into the best design school in Aurelia City just as she wanted. But then Rhys left, and soon after, her father fell ill.

Moments later, the secretary texted back, saying he couldn't step away and asking if Shera could bring the item up herself.

Since she was already there, she figured she might as well.

She took the elevator up to the fifth floor, located the private room, and knocked. The secretary stepped out, saw her, and immediately ushered her inside.

"I'm not sure this is appropriate. You can just check the item here to make sure everything is in order."

But the secretary insisted she come in, saying Mr. Winston was expecting her.

Shera's expression stiffened. A thousand worst-case scenarios flashed through her mind. If Mr. Winston turned out to be some predatory creep, she was fully prepared to smash a bottle over his head and call the police.

She discreetly slipped her phone out of her purse and gripped it tightly.

But the moment she stepped inside, she realized she had severely overthought the situation.

There were only three people in the luxurious room. Mr. Winston was standing to the side, smiling obsequiously. The man in the seat of honor looked utterly indifferent until his dark eyes shifted from the city skyline outside the window to her. He clearly froze, and the assistant standing behind him looked equally stunned.