Chapter 113
Evelyn listened to those words, and her chest felt like someone was slowly grinding it with a blunt object. Not a sharp pain—more like a dull, persistent pressure building inside.
She stood there, looking at the woman in front of her. The woman she'd hated for thirty-five years.
"Lillie Hawk." Evelyn said her name for the third time. This time, there was no judgment in her voice.
Lillie lifted her head.
Her eyes were rimmed with red. A faint red, like skin flushed from the wind—barely there, but visible. She wasn't crying. Her nostrils didn't even flare. But in those obsidian eyes, something hard was beginning to crack, piece by piece.
"You don't hate me," Evelyn said. "You hate that no one remembers you."
Lillie's lips trembled.
Outside the window, a white seagull skimmed the water's surface, letting out a short, sharp cry.
Evelyn's earpiece buzzed lightly behind her ear. Cedric's thirty-minute check-in signal. She tapped the spot with her fingertip, sending back the 'safe' code.
Then she did something even she hadn't expected.
She pulled the silver ring from her bag.
The Hawk family crest gleamed in the cold air-conditioned light. Shield-shaped base, pine tree, twin cranes.
Evelyn set the ring down beside the silk scarf.
"My mom left this to me." She looked at Lillie. "The Hawk family crest is engraved inside the band. Look—"
She turned the ring over. The miniature design was clearly visible in the light.
"That family won't acknowledge you. But your sister's blood runs in my veins." Evelyn's voice softened, yet each word felt carved in stone. "I can't make the Hawk family recognize you. But I can tell you one thing."
Lillie stared at the ring, frozen in place.
"You're not alone."
Those few words fell into the living room, quieter than everything that had come before.
So quiet that Evelyn could hear Lillie's breathing become uneven. Not from anger—from the sudden flood of something breaking inside after thirty-five years of no one ever saying those words to her.
Lillie's hands clenched, then released. Released, then clenched again.
She turned away, her back to Evelyn, her shoulders taut like a bowstring about to snap.
The living room filled with nothing but the hum of the air conditioner and the distant, muffled crash of waves against the shore.
Evelyn didn't rush her. She just stood there. Waiting.
For a long time.
Long enough for the sunlight outside to shift angles, the golden line climbing from the floor to the wall.
Finally, Lillie spoke.
"You should go."
Her voice was hoarse, unrecognizable.
Evelyn didn't move.
"Tomorrow." Lillie's back curved slightly, as if bearing something unbearably heavy. "Tomorrow I'll give Cedric something. The complete evidence from the Parker family and the White family back then. Original documents."
Evelyn's breath hitched.
"I don't want your forgiveness." Lillie's voice fractured into a whisper at the end. "I'm just… tired."
---
When Evelyn walked out through the wrought-iron gate of the villa, Emerald City's dusk was pressing down from every direction. The skyline burned a deep, vivid orange-red. White plumeria petals littered the path, crushed under her shoes into dark, sticky juice.
She stood at the gate and drew in a deep breath of damp sea air. Her lungs filled with salt. She exhaled slowly, feeling like she'd just surfaced from underwater.
Cedric was leaning against a palm tree across the street.
He wore a black short-sleeved shirt, the sleeves hugging the contours of his upper arms. His hands were in his pockets. When he saw her come out, his entire body loosened—just a fraction—from that tense, standby state.
But only a fraction.
His gaze swept over her face, lingering on the corners of her eyes.
Evelyn knew she didn't look great right now. Her eyes were probably red-rimmed, her lips pale. She carried the kind of exhaustion that came from being hollowed out.
Cedric didn't ask, "How did it go?"
He strode across the street, came right up to her, and pulled her into his arms.
The embrace was firm. Not the usual possessive, teasing hold—this was closer to 'confirming you're still here.' His palm cupped the back of her head, fingers threading into her hair, his chin resting on top.
Evelyn's nose pressed into the fabric of his chest. The black cotton had been warmed by the afternoon sun, carrying a faint heat mixed with his cool, woody scent.
She didn't say anything. She just leaned into him, feeling his heartbeat thudding against her forehead.
For a long time.
Long enough for the streetlights to flicker on, for Emerald City's night to settle in layer by layer.
"She said she'll give you something tomorrow," Evelyn murmured into his chest.
Cedric's fingers moved slowly through her hair, the touch light, like soothing a startled cat.
"What is it?"
"Original evidence from the Parker family and the White family. From back then."
Cedric's fingers paused. Just once. Then continued their gentle rhythm.
"Why would she give it to me?"
Evelyn thought for a moment. "She's tired."
Cedric didn't press further. He lowered his head, his lips brushing the top of her hair.
"Let's go. Time to head back." His voice was low, carrying a tender command.
Evelyn pulled back from his embrace and looked up at him. Emerald City's streetlights cast a warm yellow glow on his profile. In that soft light, his sharp features seemed less severe—almost gentle in a way she rarely saw.
"Cedric."
"Yeah?"
"How long were you waiting just now?"
The corner of Cedric's mouth twitched. Not quite a smile—more like a faint, helpless, tender curve.
"However long you were in there, that's how long I waited."
Evelyn looked at him, and the weight that had pressed on her chest all day finally began to lift.
She reached out and took his hand. Their fingers laced together, palm to palm. His hand was dry and warm, the hard edges of his knuckles pressing against the gauze still wrapped around her injured palm. It hurt a little. But that kind of pain felt safe.
They walked through the streets of Emerald City. The last warmth of dusk still lingered. Roadside stalls were setting up folding tables. Someone called out, "Pretty lady, want some noodles?" White steam billowed from bamboo steamers into the sky.
Evelyn suddenly stopped mid-step.
Cedric, pulled to a halt, turned back to look at her.
"What's wrong?"
Evelyn stood beneath the streetlight, the orange glow washing her in warm tones. She looked up at Cedric, something in her eyes he'd never seen before—something closer to 'choice.'
"Cedric Parker." She used his full name.
Cedric's pupils contracted slightly. She rarely called him by his full name.
"No matter what's in that evidence Lillie gives you tomorrow—" Evelyn's fingers tightened around his palm. "No matter what the Parker family did back then—"
She paused. A spatula clanged against an iron wok at a nearby stall.