Chapter 481: A Face from an Old Memory

Elias Mercer shielded Clara Whitmore through the dense crowd until they finally reached the outskirts.

Clara exhaled deeply.

She looked up to meet the man's amused gaze.

"Professor, I..."

Elias pointed to her cheek. "Your hair is stuck to your face."

Flustered, she reached up but missed the spot.

His slender fingers brushed lightly across her skin, tucking the stray strand away.

"There."

Clara hastily tucked her hair behind her ear. The stifling crowd had left her sweaty, strands clinging to her neck.

The memory of crashing into his chest made her ears burn.

"Professor! I'll get us water!"

Before he could respond, she darted away.

Elias called after her, but the elevator doors slid shut.

Clara fled to the first floor, ensuring he hadn't followed before relaxing.

Then she froze.

Connor Hayes was guiding two elderly people toward her.

The silver-haired gentleman wore a stern expression, deep creases between his brows. Beside him, a frail woman leaned on a cane, her eyes vacant.

Connor looked equally startled.

He'd taken leave specifically to accompany his grandparents. They'd recently returned from abroad, and his grandmother had been hospitalized due to acclimation issues.

He hadn't expected to see Clara here.

Then he remembered—today was Helen Whitmore's book signing.

After brief introductions, Walter Davenport studied the girl with subtle scrutiny.

Unlike the waifish young women chasing extreme thinness, her complexion glowed with health, her figure balanced. Those amber eyes held particular vivacity, reminding him of another pair from his memories...