Five years later, in Bartham, Caldor.

A black Mercedes was speeding along the highway from the airport to the city center, and in its spacious backseat sat a woman accompanied by a young boy who was approximately four or five years old.

The woman sported a pixie cut and was dressed in a Chanel suit. Her impeccable makeup and attire exuded an aura of elegance and professionalism.

There was a laptop on her lap. Even while traveling at high speed, she seemed engrossed in her unfinished work.

The young boy next to her was dressed in a preppy style. He wore a white shirt, a red bow tie, plaid shorts with suspenders, and a pair of shiny black shoes. The little boy was every inch a young gentleman.

With his nose pressed against the car window, his eyes were wide open as he stared without blinking at the passing scenery.

"Mommy, is this your hometown?" the boy curiously inquired. His voice was as clear as the jingle of silver bells.

Larissa tore her eyes away from the complex repor