Chapter 482: Clara Greeted the Elderly Couple with a Gentle Curve of Her Lips

Clara greeted the elderly couple with a gentle curve of her lips.

Old Mr. Davenport, rarely seen with such kindness, smiled warmly. "Hello."

Connor's pupils contracted slightly.

In his memory, this iron-willed patriarch never smiled easily, especially not with younger generations—his standards were notoriously strict.

The family butler once mentioned how warm-hearted the couple had been in their youth.

Until that incident twenty years ago...

All tenderness froze the day Aunt Helen disappeared.

Connor's gaze swept over their deeply lined faces.

If they never found her, this would remain their lifelong regret.

"Connor, I'm thirsty," Mrs. Davenport suddenly said.

"I'll get water." He turned to Clara. "Could you watch them for me?"

"Should I go instead?"

"Grandmother only drinks a specific brand of mineral water. The nearest vendor is three blocks away."

"Understood. Go ahead."

Connor hurried off.

Marian pulled Clara down beside her. "Connor says you're friends?"

"Yes, introduced through mutual friends."

Grant's roguish grin flashed through her mind.

"That boy never mingled with girls growing up. You're the first!"

Clara suppressed a smirk. If only they'd seen his nightclub escapades.

"Boston has changed so much..." Mr. Davenport mused.

Clara smoothly steered the conversation toward urban development.

Walter arched a brow. "You're from here?"

"Nearby." Her eyes softened. "My hometown has peach groves stretching miles. Petals rain down every spring."

A glimmer sparked in the old man's clouded eyes. "I visited thirty years ago..."

Most juniors trembled in his presence.

Yet Clara treated him like any ordinary elder.

"How old are you, dear?" Marian interjected.

Clara answered politely.

The matriarch fired off several more questions.

Her responses were impeccable—courteous yet revealing nothing private.

Walter studied his wife with surprise.

Marian apologized softly. "Your voice... reminds me of someone."

Only then did Clara notice the woman's unfocused pupils.

In Marian's blurred vision, the young woman's silhouette gradually merged with a figure from her memories.

That inexplicable familiarity sent ripples through the old woman's barren heart.