บท 38: CHAPTER 38: A Cold Revelation

　　I hurried through the crowd of chattering guests, my eyes scanning for a flash of Alexander's dark hair. Just as I thought I'd spotted him across the room, a hand landed on my shoulder. I whirled around, bracing myself for another round of introductions and polite small talk. But instead, I found myself face-to-face with Abel Westcott, Alexander's father.

　　He was a distinguished-looking man with a head of salt-and-pepper hair and a smile that seemed permanently etched onto his face. "Hello dear," he boomed, his voice filled with a practiced warmth. "So glad you could make it. We haven't had a chance to chat properly yet."

　　"Of course," I stammered, returning a tentative smile. "It's lovely to finally meet you personally, Mr. Westcott."