Sign the Papers Mr. Langford novel Chapter 330

Wren's heart completely melted.

"You don't need to try and make things easier for me. You just focus on being a kid."

Leo thought about it. "Then I'll be a kid, but I'll still support you."

Wren let out a soft laugh.

"Deal."

After dropping Leo off at school, Wren headed straight to Stellaris.

The moment she stepped into her office, Lydia Whitaker's call came through.

Wren stared at the caller ID but didn't pick up immediately.

Phoebe happened to push the door open. "The Whitakers?"

"Lydia."

Phoebe pulled out a chair and sat down. "Put her on speaker."

Wren answered the call.

Lydia's voice was infinitely softer than Quentin's.

"Wren, dear. Did your father speak a little too harshly to you this morning? He's just worried about you. The poor man hasn't slept properly in days."

Wren said nothing.

But Lydia was a master at keeping a one-woman show alive.

"How is Leo doing? It must be so hard for a child to adjust to a new environment. Why don't you bring him back to the Whitaker Estate for a few days? I can have the guest suite cleaned up for you both."

Hearing this, Phoebe raised an eyebrow and shot Wren a look.

Wren replied flatly, "That won't be necessary."

"I suppose you're right. You're so busy these days, and taking care of a child all by yourself must be exhausting." Lydia sighed gently. "Wren, I know this might not be what you want to hear, but between digging up your mother's old files, raising a child, and running your projects... how is your body going to handle all that stress?"

"What is it you actually want to ask?"

Lydia paused for a second, the smile still evident in her voice. "What could I possibly want to ask? Your father told me you're still hung up on that old desk. I just wanted to help you jog your memory, see if we missed any details from back then."

Phoebe sneered coldly.

Wren leaned back in her chair. "Did you remember something?"

"It's been so long, everything is just a blur now," Lydia said. "Your mother had so many belongings. Some of it was packed in boxes, some of it was sent to a temporary storage facility, and some of it might have been thrown out by your father's staff. If you just wander around asking questions, it's easy to get misled by outsiders."

Storage facility.

Wren's eyes sharpened instantly.

Phoebe's head snapped up.

Lydia continued, "How about this? Why don't you show me whatever leads you have? I can ask the old staff for you. It's much safer than you trusting a bunch of strangers."

Wren tapped her finger lightly against the desk.

Lydia was just like Willow—a master at wrapping interrogations in layers of fake concern.

Every word sounded like she had Wren's best interests at heart, while her hands were actively digging through Wren's pockets.

"I don't have any new leads."

Lydia chuckled softly. "Well, I suppose that's for the best. I was just worried someone might try to scam you. Oh, by the way, are you still in touch with old colleagues like Scott Clarke? They're getting on in years, and memories can be so unreliable. You know how stubborn your mother was when she was running her projects. She and your father fought all the time. It's so easy for outsiders to twist those stories."

Your mother was stubborn.

She and your father fought all the time.

The words were delivered with a feather-light touch, effortlessly throwing dirt on a dead woman's name.

Wren's gaze turned ice-cold.

"Lydia, my mother is dead. You might want to watch how you speak about her."

The line went completely silent for a half-second.

Lydia quickly slipped back into her velvet tone. "Oh, Wren, listen to you. So sensitive. I'm just looking out for you."

"I have work to do."

"Then I'll leave you to it. Remember to come visit. The Whitaker Estate is always your home."

Wren smiled softly. "I'm alright."

She didn't waste time making small talk; she immediately brought up the words "desk" and "storage facility" from her phone call at the Whitaker house.

When Mrs. Higgins heard "storage facility," her needle and thread completely stopped.

Wren asked gently, "Did you remember something?"

Mrs. Higgins frowned, trying desperately to recall the details.

"After Madam passed away, Mr. Whitaker had people pack up the study. Everything else was thrown into standard cardboard boxes, but that desk... and a few other cabinets... they were moved very carefully."

"Where did they take them?"

"I asked the movers. One of them said they were taking it to a storage facility in Southside first." Mrs. Higgins lowered her voice. "I even thought it was weird at the time. If they were just getting rid of old furniture, why pay for a storage unit? The movers said it was on Mr. Whitaker's direct orders."

Wren's breathing slowed.

"Do you remember the name of the moving company?"

Mrs. Higgins thought for a long time. She had found the whole situation so bizarre back then that the details had subconsciously stuck in her mind.

"I think they were called SafeGuard Movers. I only remember a bit of the license plate... it ended in 726."

Wren quickly jotted the information down.

SafeGuard Movers.

Ending in 726.

The Southside Storage Facility.

Mrs. Higgins gripped Wren's hands tightly and added, "Miss... maybe that desk really wasn't thrown away after all."

The evening light spilled across the old woman's wrinkled hands.

Wren stared at the new line of clues she had just written down, her heart beating faster by the second.

It wasn't the final answer yet.

But she had finally found a thread she could pull.