The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 1111

On the other side of town, Newell sat quietly in the back seat, trying to pull himself together. Just as he managed to even out his breathing, his phone started ringing.

“Newell, it’s Nine,” Cedric said, passing him the phone with both hands.

Newell pressed the answer button, his brows knitting in confusion. “Yeah? What do you want? Just say it.”

On the other end, Charlotte hesitated, touching her nose and clearing her throat. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Newell let out a quiet laugh. “Go ahead. What is it?”

“Have we ever met Mr. Churchill before?”

Cedric, who was sipping water up front, nearly choked and spluttered all over the dashboard.

So, Nine was getting suspicious, just as he thought. But he hadn’t expected her to ask him directly.

Newell shot Cedric a warning look. Cedric clamped his mouth shut and didn’t dare say another word.

“We’ve never met him. Why?” Newell replied, his voice even.

“He just looks really familiar,” Charlotte said, propping her chin on her hand, sounding casual but thoughtful. “It’s a strong feeling, you know?”

Charlotte had a memory like a steel trap. If she thought something was familiar, she’d almost always seen it before. Still, she just couldn’t remember anything about Mr. Churchill.

Newell cleared his throat, feeling a little awkward. “I’ll look into it. If I find anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Alright.”

Charlotte didn’t push. Other than her family and Anthony, Newell was one of the few people she actually trusted. She just couldn’t figure out why, with so many smart people out there, he’d picked her as his student.

Charlotte sat down and took a small sip. She looked up at Franco, her voice soft. “Dad, can we talk about something?”

“Of course, Lottie. What is it?” Franco sat down across from her, ready to listen.

“When we get the antidote, give it to Mom first.” Charlotte set her bowl down and leaned back, a quiet smile on her lips. “I know what you’re planning. You don’t have to keep it from me.”

Franco’s face fell. He started to say something, but stopped. “Lottie…”

“I’m really fine. I don’t need the antidote.” Charlotte picked up an orange Anthony had peeled, popping a slice in her mouth, her tone easy. “My research team is almost finished developing one. We’ll have it soon.”

“How soon is ‘soon’?” Franco’s voice was rough, his eyes red at the corners.

“When I say soon, I mean soon.” Charlotte lifted her chin, her bright eyes steady and sure. “If I don’t take the antidote right now, I’ll be okay. But if Mom doesn’t get it, she won’t make it. Not for long.”