Chapter 117: His Words Were Lies

Oliver enters Clara's house.

His eyes roaming around in silence. The beautiful garden, the simple arrangement, everything shouted classy to the core.

'It should be Mrs. Sheldon's work.'

'Clara has a more cute and girly side to her.'

Oliver tried to look around the living room to search for something that would remind him of Clara's touch to the house.

  Soon he saw a small painting hanging in a corner. The red color background with a splash of blue. He could see the three people in the background, but hardly saw their faces.

It was a painting by some child. There were some fingerprints on the side. A smile formed on Oliver's face, as if he knew who the artist was.

'Clara has been clumsy since childhood, I guess.'