The next day, Timothea received all the information about the hotel’s cleaner.
“Harper, male, 32 years old…” The assistant read the information.
Timothea’s brows furrowed as she listened.
“Ms. Johnston, we’ve already investigated. Harper has no connection to Bond. They probably don’t know each other.”
Timothea’s face remained expressionless. She tapped her fingers on the table and said calmly, “I understand. You can leave first.”
From then on, Timothea’s attention began to focus more and more on Harper.
One day, while leaving to get off work, Harper was blocked in an alley by several drunken men and nearly bullied.
Timothea, sitting in a black luxury car, watched expressionlessly.
Just as they were about to pull off Harper’s pants, a fist struck them, knocking them over.
Harper stared at her, still terrified. “It was you? Thank you for saving me…”
Timothea said nothing, took off her coat and covered him. “Where’s home? I’ll take you there.”
Harper shook his head bitterly. “No, I don’t have money for rent, so I’m sleeping in the hotel’s cleaning room.”
Timothea looked at him in surprise. Half an hour later, she handed Harper a bank card.
“Don’t work at the hotel anymore. Come be my assistant.”
Harper realized what was happening and was immediately overjoyed.
From that day on, she became Timothea’s personal assistant.
Her clothes were ironed by Harper.
Her life plans were arranged by Harper.
And yet, he did it better than anyone else.
But that day, Timothea came home early and leaned against the doorway, watching Harper clean out his closet.
As she watched, her expression changed.
“How do you know how to tie a bow like that?”
Timothea rushed over and grabbed the tie tightly, his hands shaking uncontrollably.
In his memory, only one person could do that: me, Bond.
Back in our humble rental apartment, I always used this method to amuse Timothea. Even the string used to tie the cake had to be tied with this kind of bow.
Timothea’s eyes flushed and she gripped Harper’s shoulders firmly.
“Tell me the truth, what’s your relationship with Bond? Where is he?”
Harper shook his head in confusion and fear.
“Ms. Johnston, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I learned how to tie a bow online.”
Timothea was completely unwilling to accept this.
Her intuition told her that Harper must be connected to Bond, but she hadn’t found out what that relationship was.
Timothea stared at the man in front of her.
It was as if she could see through his face to the person behind him.
I floated in midair, a mixture of emotions.
Harper and I looked about 50% similar, but there were some differences in our gestures.
But if he was deliberately imitating me, someone who wasn’t particularly familiar with me wouldn’t be able to tell.
For example, his expression and demeanor at that moment made Timothea feel complicated and even the strength of her grip weakened considerably. As the two stared at each other, an ambiguous atmosphere gradually developed and Harper’s cheeks grew hot.
“Ms. Johnston, are you thinking of me as someone’s replacement? Do you love that man very much?”
Timothea’s eyes grew clearer and she was about to let go.
Harper’s face suddenly showed pain and he fell back.
“I feel so dizzy, Ms. Johnston…”
Timothea held him firmly.
Elmer, who had just arrived, witnessed this scene. He froze in place, his face pale and the teacup in his hand clattered to the ground, shattering into pieces.
