Quietly Departing

Arabella took out her phone and called Cosmo. "Mr. Cosmo, do you know Chloe?"

After a brief pause, Cosmo replied, "I seem to have heard that name somewhere. What's going on?"

"Someone smashed her hand with a sledgehammer last night."

"Oh," Cosmo exclaimed, "Do you want me to help her find a doctor?"

"No need, it's already taken care of." Arabella ended the call.

It was evident that Cosmo was not involved.

Arabella looked at the photo again, racking her brains. Since marrying Reginald, she had been living a secluded life, introverted and reserved. Her social circle was indeed limited, let alone having close male friends.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't identify the figure in the photo.

Outside, Reginald smoked half a pack of cigarettes to calm his emotions.

Entering the room, he found Arabella anxiously sitting on the bed, still holding the photo, her brow deeply furrowed.

He paused for a moment, sat down, and gently smoothed her wrinkled forehead. His focused gaze