The next day.
Meanwhile, elsewhere, Moana was consumed by a rage that continued to smolder.
It had been days since Sean had vanished from her life. No messages. No calls. No visits. Every time Moana called, she only got voicemail. Every message was just a single checkmark.
Sean Weasley—the man who used to be so possessive of Moana—now acted as if he'd never known his girlfriend.
Moana flung her phone onto the sofa.
"Jerk," she muttered.
She knew Sean was hiding something. He couldn't possibly have been this busy all this time without a reason. And the only plausible reason was Clara.
"His obsession isn't dead yet." Moana snorted.
That day, Moana made a decision.
"I'm going to follow Sean!"
From a distance, she saw Sean's car pull out of the office area. Moana started her car's engine, keeping a safe distance, pretending to be just another driver.
The streets began to clear as they left the city center.
However, Moana didn't realize one thing. Sean never moved alone.
