Stefan Quiles took the menu handed to him by the waiter and ordered a latte, continuing his questioning, "Is that letter written by you?"
"Yes, I wrote it."
Janice Clark deeply regretted it; perhaps she shouldn't have taken it upon herself to write that letter.
If she hadn't, things wouldn't have come to this point. To put it simply, it was all her fault—she harmed Valentine Teller, and also the child in Valentine's belly.
Regret came too late. Now, she just wanted to do something to make up for her mistakes.
Janice Clark's gaze fell on the man in front of her.
Years apart, and he indeed had aged, wrinkles surrounded his eyes, and his hair had become increasingly sparse.
"As you wished, I've acknowledged her."
Under Janice Clark's gaze, Stefan Quiles felt somewhat uncomfortable and took a gulp of the lemon water on the table.
