‘Memories that are… long forgotten?’

Deirdre gazed contemplatively as Ryker hastily left the room. She carefully wrapped up a dessert and hid it in her bag.

The door swung open again just three minutes after Ryker's departure.

Deirdre was surprised. "Mr. Wight, you're back—"

But as she looked up, her voice trailed off. She was in disbelief, her pupils slightly constricting.

"Brendan? What brought you here?"

Brendan appeared in a wheelchair. He was wearing a white suit that accentuated his tall, muscular physique. His handsome face was furrowed, and he exuded a commanding presence.

"I should be asking you that. What brought you here?" he questioned, thinking he might be mistaken when he saw Deirdre entering the place. He didn't expect her to be so bold.

Deirdre regained her composure. "I'm here to meet a friend."

"A friend?" Brendan narrowed his eyes. "You mean Ryker? Is he your friend?

"You've been abroad for years, so how did you get so close to him?"

Deirdre furrowed her e