Later that afternoon, amidst her confusion, Henley called.

Raegan answered, but silence lingered between them.

Finally, Henley broke the silence.

“Raegan, how have you been lately?"

Raegan responded coolly, “I'm alright. I've transferred the medical expenses to your account."

Henley paused, then sighed.

“Raegan, you know I am not lack of money.”

Raegan wasn't in the mood for conversation with Henley. His deceit had painted him in a more complex light than she had anticipated.

Raegan replied icily, “Mr. Brooks, if you have nothing else to talk about, I'm ending the call."

Her voice was distant, detached.

Henley, disheartened, replied, "I want to help you, Raegan."

"Really?" Raegan's skepticism was evident.

"I'm aware of Nicole's situation. I can help you.”

Raegan, her heart tightening, didn't question how Henley knew about it. She urgently inquired, “Can you truly help Nicole?"

“Yes. Let's talk about it in person." Henley provided an address and hung up.

Upon ending the call, Raegan swiftly hailed a taxi and headed to the address Henley had provided.

The destination turned out to be Henley's studio.

The studio was sizable. A secretary escorted her to Henley's office.

Henley, still recovering, struggled to walk as he greeted Raegan and gestured for her to sit.

Seated, Raegan asked, "Henley, what's Nicole's condition in the detention center?"