Chapter 682: Certain It’s the Person I’m Looking For
Chapter 682: Chapter 682: Certain It’s the Person I’m Looking For
After getting home from eating spicy hot pot, Renee Jennings received a call from Sylvia Brooks.
She rose and walked out to the garden, answering the phone. "Summer."
On the other end of the line, Sylvia Brooks’s voice was soft. "Renee, have you eaten?"
"I just got back from having spicy hot pot," Renee said with a laugh. "You?"
Sylvia Brooks said, "I just got home from dinner too. I actually wanted to ask you... about this afternoon at the coffee shop, when you were communicating with Kitty... Why didn’t you tell Phoebe?"
"I had a feeling you’d ask." Renee chuckled, but then her tone grew more serious. "Summer, there’s nothing wrong with Phoebe’s mother’s health. It’s just that the situation is very serious, and I don’t think Phoebe should find out this way."
Hearing this, Sylvia Brooks was silent for two seconds before saying, "Okay, I understand."
She didn’t press Renee for details about what she’d heard, and they ended the call after a few more pleasantries.
The hand in which Renee held her phone slowly lowered to her side. She tilted her head back, gazing up at the twinkling Dotties in the night sky.
A moment later, the phone in her palm vibrated.
Renee glanced down, tapped the screen, and saw a message from Sawyer.
"Renee, the owner of that number you sent is a woman named May Shepherd. She’s in her fifties, a cleaner."
’May Shepherd? A cleaner?’
As Renee was thinking, another message from Sawyer came through.
"This number was only activated two weeks ago."
Renee’s eyes narrowed slightly as she typed her reply: "Okay, Sawyer. Understood."
After sending the message, she frowned in concentration.
’May Shepherd must be a nobody. There’s no reason she would know about this.’
’Who is the one actually using this number?’
A figure flashed through her mind—Yvonne Morgan.
Meanwhile, Yvonne Morgan was holed up in what she considered a cramped and shabby apartment.
The only light on in the entire apartment was in the hallway, leaving the living room dim. She sat, expressionless, in a corner of the sofa.
A few minutes later, the screen of the phone beside her lit up. Just as she picked it up, a call came through.
Yvonne Morgan answered the phone. "Hello."
"I got the number. Sent it to you. Time to pay the balance."
"What’s the rush? When I confirm it’s the person I’m looking for, you’ll get paid." With that, Yvonne Morgan hung up.
She opened the text message, tapped on the number, and pressed dial.
It rang for a moment before a gentle voice came on the line. "Hello, may I ask who’s calling?"
Yvonne Morgan’s lips curled into a smirk. "Is this Phoebe Sawyer?"
"Yes, it is," Phoebe Sawyer answered. "May I ask who this is?"
Yvonne Morgan didn’t answer. She just hung up.
The sudden BEEP-BEEP-BEEP of a disconnected line filled the earpiece, and Phoebe Sawyer frowned in confusion.
’Who was that? So strange.’
Phoebe Sawyer put her phone down and went back to her book.
Soon, her phone vibrated twice. BUZZ. BUZZ.
Phoebe Sawyer ignored it. It wasn’t until she was getting ready for bed that she finally picked up her phone to look.
But one glance was all it took to leave her completely stunned, as if she’d been struck by lightning.
Her face was a mask of disbelief as she stammered, "Impossible... This is impossible!"
Phoebe Sawyer threw her phone down and clutched her head, breaking down. "How could I not be Mommy’s child?"
"This has to be some kind of sick joke!"
Phoebe Sawyer forced herself to calm down. Taking a deep breath, she bent over and picked up the phone from the carpet.
She hesitated for a few seconds before dialing the number.
"We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is not in service..."
Phoebe Sawyer’s brow furrowed. Something felt very wrong.
’Why would someone play this kind of joke?’
Phoebe Sawyer was up all night, tormented by the text message claiming she wasn’t Wendy Lowe’s biological daughter.
And she had even invited Sylvia Brooks over to her house today.
The moment Sylvia Brooks arrived at Imperial Bay Villas that morning, she could tell Phoebe hadn’t slept well.
"Phoebe, did you pull an all-nighter?"
Phoebe Sawyer touched her face and sighed. "I had insomnia last night. Couldn’t get to sleep."
Sylvia Brooks glanced around before asking in a hushed voice, "Are you worried about your mom?"
"No." Phoebe Sawyer’s mind was in turmoil. After a moment of hesitation, she decided to tell her everything. "Doesn’t it sound ridiculous? How could I possibly not be my mommy’s real daughter?"
Upon hearing this, Sylvia Brooks’s brow slowly furrowed as she recalled what Renee had said on the phone the previous night.
’It couldn’t be...’
"I’m definitely my mommy’s real daughter," Phoebe Sawyer told herself, over and over.
Sylvia Brooks pursed her lips. "Do you know who sent you the message?" she asked softly.
Phoebe Sawyer shook her head. "No idea. I tried calling back last night, but the phone was already off. But before she sent the text, the girl called me to ask if I was Phoebe Sawyer."
"It was a girl?"
"Yes, she sounded pretty young."
"Let me see the number."
Phoebe Sawyer unlocked her phone. "This is it."
Sylvia Brooks keyed the number into her own phone and pressed dial, but she got the same "not in service" message.
"Weird, right?" Phoebe Sawyer frowned. "She called me, sent a text, and then just vanished. I have no idea what her motive is."
"It is strange," Sylvia Brooks agreed, her expression puzzled.
Phoebe Sawyer sighed. "That’s why I was up all night thinking about it."
"Maybe it’s just a prank," Sylvia Brooks said comfortingly. "Try not to overthink it. Just relax."
"Okay, I’ll try not to think about it."
"Are you tired? You should get some more rest. We can hang out another day."
"It’s fine, I’m not tired." Phoebe Sawyer waved her hand dismissively. "Don’t worry about me."
Sylvia Brooks nodded. "Okay, but let me know if you start feeling tired."
"I know, I wouldn’t be polite with you," Phoebe Sawyer said, affectionately linking her arm with Sylvia’s and grinning. "What are friends for?"
"That’s good." Sylvia Brooks smiled as well.
That evening, Sylvia Brooks was driving away from Imperial Bay Villas when she called Renee Jennings. "Renee, are you home?"
"I’m home," Renee replied with a laugh. "Are you coming over?"
"Yes. Is now a good time?"
"Of course. You’re always welcome."
"Great, I’ll be there in thirty minutes."
"Perfect, we can have dinner together."
"Okay, see you soon."
Sylvia Brooks arrived at Eastgate Villa just in time for dinner.
After dinner, Renee asked her to go for a walk.
"Summer, did you need to talk to me about something?"
Based on her understanding of Sylvia Brooks, she wouldn’t show up at someone’s house around dinnertime for no reason.
"You figured me out, Renee," Sylvia Brooks said with a light laugh. "Yes, something’s come up. I went to Phoebe’s house today..."
She recounted the story of the phone call and text message Phoebe Sawyer had received. "...And I remembered the number."
Renee’s brow furrowed slightly. "Let me see it," she said in a low voice.
"Okay." Sylvia Brooks opened her phone’s call history. "I tried calling it, but it wouldn’t connect."
Renee stared at the number, her expression darkening. She took out her own phone and opened her chat window with Sawyer.
Just as she’d thought. It was the same number.