NovelEnglishChapter 415
Chapter: 415
After retreating to the sanctuary of her room, Millie eschewed beginning her design without delay. Instead, her fingers danced across the keyboard as she delved into the virtual world to unearth information about Mrs. Barton.
Time’s passage was marked by the soft clicks of her mouse until she stumbled upon an archived interview featuring Mrs. Barton. Within it, the host inquired if red was her favored hue.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtObservation had told them that Mrs. Barton’s wardrobe blazed with red, yet the response was a pause that hung heavy in the air. Eventually, she slowly shook her head, her voice soft but decisive, revealing her true affection for the shade of black.
Millie’s mind tumed over this revelation, as if peering into a mystery.
Black!
Acolor cloaked in secrecy, symbolizing safety and humility.
Aspark ignited in Millie’s creative soul, and with a newfound inspiration, she set to work designing with fervor. When Marcus returned, he found Millie slumbering at her desk. Gently lifting her, he placed her on the bed. He noticed the childlike wetness at the corner of her mouth—a secret shared only in sleep.
Without revulsion, he tenderly wiped away the drool, marveling at his lack of discomfort.
Millie’s lips smacked in her sleep, a subtle sign of relief as the stickiness retreated.
Marcus’ eyes were then drawn to Millie’s half-finished creation, and his curiosity was piqued. But alas, it was marred by the errant drool; its lines were blurred, and the drawing was tarnished.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmMillie awoke in the pre-dawn hush, checking her phone to find the thad slipped to two in the morning. Realizing she was in bed and Marcus was peacefully sleeping nearby, she wondered if he had carried her to bed last night.
Eased from bed and driven by a need to continue her work, she approached her desk, but what met her eyes left her stunned: a crumpled draft marked by a dried watermark.
Apang of sadness and embarrassment struck her; her drool-soaked paper must have been witnessed by Marcus. Flushed with both determination and mortification, she sat down, pulled out a fresh piece of paper, and began anew. Her design, already etched in her mind, flowed effortlessly onto the paper.
She settled on a two-layer snowflake motif, a dance of large and small snowflakes encircling a white diamond at the core, surrounded by black diamonds in the outer snowflakes.
There was no black snow in nature’s palette, but her choice was guided by the cryptic words from Mrs. Barton’s interview.
By the tthe morning clock struck eight, Millie’s labor was complete. With urgency, she sent her work to the team she had been working with, imploring them to bring it to life.
The Thomas Group boasted a team of master craftsmen, ready to publish Nancy’s work as soon as it was complete.
Having finished her design, Millie stretched and looked around, discovering Marcus still asleep.
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