If not, with Albert's sway, he'd be six feet under, no ten-million check.

It was all for Jessie's sake.

After a beat, Axell piped up, "Jessie didn't ask about me?"

Albert stubbed out his smoke, voice soft. "She kept quiet, because she knew it would upset me. She figured it'd end worse for you if she did. And she was right. Axell, I hate to admit it but she did have feelings for you once."

Albert felt a pang at the words.

And he didn't dwell on what Axell might feel hearing it. Bottom line, Axell's chapter was closed.

Albert gave Axell closure.

He closed the book on Axell and Jessie too.

As dusk settled, Albert pulled up from the detention center. Stepping out of the car, he spotted a lone cloud drifting lazily in the sky.

Maybe it was his mood but that cloud kind of resembled Jessie to him.

Entering the house, Elsie bustled in with a thermos, setting it down and popping the lid open. A heavenly aroma of chicken soup filled the room. "Mr. Waston, your wound isn't fully patched up. Chicken soup's the best remedy," she chimed politely.

Albert wasn't keen on soup.

Slouching on the sofa, he undid his cuff link, quipping, “Why cook this again? You have it."

Elsie felt a pang of disappointment at her inability to sway him.

"It's potent and fragrant. It's been simmering for at least four hours," she explained. "If it were my own, I'd understand if you didn't want it. But this here's from Miss Green's mom herself. A gesture of gratitude."

Albert fumbled with his shirt collar.

His hand shook at the mention. “Jessie's mother?"

Elsie's eyes widened.

“Yeah. She sent it over while you were out. I figured you knew."

She added smugly, "Her mother has been whipping up soup for you? That's a sign she's on board with you and Miss Green."