After two days of continuous remorse over his own stupidity, James Clifford's brain finally began functioning normally again. The shock of Eleanor's sudden reappearance had shaken him, but now he knew he needed to get his emotions under control. He had to decide his next steps regarding Eleanor… strategically and carefully. Although he didn't know the full truth, he had to formulate a plan with the fragments of information he had managed to gather so far.
Seated in his favourite spot at his outskirt villa… on a rocking chair beside the serene swimming pool… he took a long sip of his freshly brewed coffee. The sun glinted off the water's surface, but James's gaze was distant, dark, calculating.
"I need to inform the Whitmores," he murmured to himself. "If they run into Eleanor and react inappropriately in front of the Millers, it could be a disaster. Especially Jennifer... I know how volatile she gets when it comes to Eleanor."
