CHAPTER 56: CHAPTER 56: FOLLOW-UP CONSULTATION

On the other side, Samual Pryce slowly put down his phone.

He turned around, his gaze landing on the large floor-to-ceiling window in the office.

Justin Holden stood with his back to him, tall and erect, surrounded by silence.

Outside the window, the cityscape was bustling yet cold, with neon lights flashing and streams of cars flowing like a tapestry of light casting onto his dark suit.

"Lawyer Holden,"

Samual Pryce’s voice echoed in the excessively quiet office, carrying a tone of disapproving inquiry.

"Why lie?"

He took a few steps forward, stopping at a place not far behind Justin Holden.

"You’re clearly here, never went on a business trip."

Justin Holden’s silhouette remained completely still.

After a few seconds, he finally spoke, his voice low and steady, revealing no emotion.

"No matter how much she resembles Claire Caldwell, she is not her."

Samual Pryce frowned deeply; it was the first time Justin had spoken about Claire Caldwell, after five years of silence.

Even if Justin never mentions it, Samual knows.

Claire Caldwell—her name is a taboo in Justin Holden’s world.

The appearance of Jean Ellison, especially the occasional look in her eyes, for Justin, was like repeatedly salting old wounds.

"I know she’s not either."

Samual Pryce’s tone was somewhat urgent, filled with concern for his boss and long-time friend,

"But this... isn’t this tormenting yourself?"

"Maybe Jean just wants to tell you the case was won, the child is back."

"Isn’t that good news? What are you hiding from? Why create the excuse of a trip abroad?"

Can he truly let go by deliberately avoiding like this?

Justin Holden turned around, the light from above outlining his deep, cold features.

His eyes were unfathomable, like a frozen, dark pool, filled with complex emotions that Samual Pryce couldn’t fully decipher.

"There’s no better way."

Justin Holden’s thin lips uttered the words, clear and cold.

"Just clients, the case is over, there’s no need to meet again."

His voice was not loud, as if giving himself a final ultimatum.

Samual Pryce looked at him but found himself momentarily speechless.

He understood Justin Holden’s stubbornness, understood the pain he rarely showed.

This self-destructive avoidance, rather than being cruel to Jean, was more of Justin Holden’s final reinforcement of his own crumbling psychological defenses.

He feared getting close, feared that fatal resemblance would utterly destroy him, making him drown in illusory bubbles and real pain, unable to extricate himself.

"But..."

Samual Pryce wanted to persuade further.

Justin Holden raised his hand, interrupting his unfinished words.

His gesture carried a sense of weary impotence.

"Leave me, I need some quiet."

The expulsion order had been issued.

Samual Pryce looked at Justin’s side profile, unusually pale and stern under the light, eventually swallowing all his worries and confusion.

He silently sighed, turned, and left the office, gently closing the heavy solid wood door.

As the door closed, the only sound left in the office was Justin Holden’s heavy breathing.

He maintained his stance facing the window, remaining unmoved for a long time.

He was like a coward, isolating himself with the most clumsy lies.

He reached out, pressing forcefully against his throbbing temple.

On the desk lay a photograph, the computer held documents he had prepared for a long time, all relating to Jean Ellison.

He could no longer stay here.

Justin Holden suddenly grabbed the car keys on the desk, his movements bearing an urgency akin to escape.

He did not call for a driver, stepping alone into the private elevator, pressing the button for the underground parking lot.

The black Mercedes sped out of the garage, Justin Holden gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening with tension.

Ignoring the navigation, he drove towards a quiet, upscale community on the city’s outskirts, guided by memory.

The destination was a private psychological therapy center.

Here, his last encounter with Laura Shaw had been rather unpleasant, with Laura suggesting he see The Seeress.

Justin Holden was a special client here, with the privilege of scheduling appointments anytime.

When he arrived, Laura Shaw was already waiting there.

She seemed in her twenties, wearing a well-tailored cream knit top and trousers, exuding a gentle and intellectual charm.

Only her eyes were visible, a mask covering half of her face, her gaze sharp.

Seeing Justin Holden push the door open, she showed no excessive emotion, only calmly gestured for him to sit on a comfortable single sofa.

"Lawyer Holden, you don’t look well,"

Laura Shaw’s voice was gentle, like a clear spring.

"A lot of pressure lately?"

Justin Holden sank into the large, soft sofa, his body still rigid.

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, the exhaustion and struggle in his gaze were barely concealed.

"The usual issue, I seem to be suffering from more severe insomnia."

His voice was deep and hoarse.

"Hmm."

Laura Shaw nodded, not rushing to inquire into details.

She stood, walked over to the control panel, dimming the room’s main lights, leaving only a few soft wall lamps to create a relaxing atmosphere.

The air was filled with a special fragrance.

"Shall we try some relaxation exercises first?"

She suggested, her voice softer.

"Try to follow my guidance, focus on your breathing..."

The next hour passed swiftly yet slowly.

Progressive muscle relaxation, guided meditation, deep breathing exercises...

Laura Shaw’s voice was steady and infectious, attempting to soothe his tense nerves.

Justin Holden tried to cooperate, attempting to empty his mind and follow her guidance.

He could never truly relax, his muscles maintained an invisible alertness, his breathing never achieving the deep and steady rhythm Laura Shaw requested.

In his mind, Claire Caldwell’s image appeared once again.

She lay in the cell, her belly slightly swollen, covered in blood, her hand clawing at the wall, leaving five bloody fingernail marks.

"No..."

He murmured something indistinctly.

Laura Shaw keenly observed his subtle reactions.

The man’s slightly frowning brows, the rapidly moving eyeballs under his eyelids, the tight and released fists, and his overly rapid shallow breaths.

Her gaze gradually became solemn.

After the relaxation exercise, Laura Shaw did not immediately proceed to deep hypnosis.

She sat back on the armchair opposite Justin Holden, hands crossed on her lap, gazing at him calmly.

"Mr. Holden,"

Her voice was gentle, yet carried the seriousness of a professional assessment.

"From your current physiological responses and the level of psychological resistance, there’s no sign of improvement in your insomnia state."

She paused, seemingly choosing her words carefully.

"Instead, I’ve observed deeper anxiety and a strong cognitive conflict, as if you’re resolutely resisting something?"