When It Finally Snows in Manhattan Chapter 05

When It Finally Snows in Manhattan Chapter 05

“Everyone run! Help!”

Guests in the venue fled in all directions. Julian froze in shock for a second.

“No—Claire got into that car, didn’t she?”

Panic seized him, and he tried to rush into the flames.

The fire raged, black smoke billowing. The wave of heat slammed into him and hurled him back.

“Claire!”

The car was engulfed in flames. He stared desperately at the mangled wreckage, but Claire was nowhere to be seen.

Just then, Yvonne coughed and dragged him to a safe zone.

“Julian, the firefighters are already working on it. Claire will be fine.”

But the fire burned hotter and wilder, and Julian’s heart twisted into a tight knot.

Why had Claire been so determined to get into that car? And why had it suddenly exploded?

Through the blaze, he vaguely recognized the burning vehicle.

“Yvonne, isn’t this the same car you used to drive back then?”

Yvonne’s eyes darted everywhere. She stammered, “Maybe… maybe it just looks similar? Lots of cars look alike. It’s just a coincidence.”

“Let’s get out of here. The smoke’s giving me a headache.”

She pulled him into a car, but his gaze stayed locked on the explosion site.

Yvonne watched him, jealousy and hatred burning in her chest.

“Julian, maybe Claire’s already gone home.”

He didn’t respond and kept staring at the scene outside.

Seeing this, Yvonne dialed a number.

The butler’s voice came through from the other end. “Don, the madam got home a while ago. She’s upstairs sleeping now. Do you want me to wake her?”

He heard this and instantly let out a breath of relief. Tears fell, the feeling of getting back something he’d thought lost overwhelming him.

“Good. That’s good.”

But the next second, Yvonne shrieked, “Oh my god! That means Claire was trying to blow us up! She’s so terrifying…”

The man paused for a moment.

If that were the case, he felt he could understand Claire.

In truth, when she’d discovered Yvonne was the one who had crippled her mother, he had been panicked and terrified.

For years, Claire had never stopped talking about the “hit-and-run driver.” Every single time, guilt had torn him apart.

Maybe Claire just wanted a taste of revenge.

He had no right to blame her. He just placated Yvonne with a few half-hearted words.

Once Yvonne fell asleep, he couldn’t hold back anymore and called Claire.

But only a cold, automated female voice answered.

He resentfully sent a message, but the “Read” notification never appeared for ages.

“Claire, you’ve gone too far…”

Thinking this, he ordered the driver to head home.

He pushed the door open and was met by the butler.

“The madam? Still asleep?”

The butler blocked his path, stammering, “Y-yes, she is.”

Julian sensed something off. He shoved her aside and sprinted up the stairs.

“Claire! I won’t even hold the whole bomb thing against you, okay? Consider it dealt with—you got it out of your system. From now on, neither of us mentions it again.”

But when he threw open the bedroom door, it was empty.

Only then did he notice that all of Claire’s things had been packed into suitcases.

The photo of the two of them by the bed had been thrown into the trash.

Just as he was trying to figure things out, the fire department called at exactly that moment. “Mr. Vance, we’re sorry for your loss. We’ve discovered a body in the car.”