Chapter 98
Evelyn leaned back in her chair, gazing out at the distant sea.
Sunlight shattered across the water's surface into a thousand gold fragments, bright enough to make her squint.
A seagull cried overhead as it swept past.
She glanced down at her rounded belly, and a small smile curved her lips.
She had boarded that ship — the one that exploded. That much was true.
But ten minutes before the blast, she'd suddenly felt ill. She needed to get off.
At the time, besides Matthew waiting on the shore, there had been bodyguards Susan had quietly stationed on board to protect her.
They coordinated a lifeboat and got her out.
She had barely stepped off when the explosion hit.
Susan had been on the phone with the bodyguards at that exact moment. The second she heard what was happening, she made the call — get the lifeboat moving in the opposite direction from the shoreline.
In all that smoke and chaos, no one spotted the small vessel.
Susan had also used the window of confusion to wipe every last security record.
By the time Matthew's people realized something was off, Evelyn had vanished into the open water.
After that, Susan arranged a new identity for Evelyn and quietly had her transported to a private island off the coast of South Africa.
Monica had only found out three months ago.
If Susan hadn't noticed how close she was to falling apart completely, she likely would have kept the secret indefinitely.
"Eve — have you really moved on?" Monica asked softly.
"I have." Evelyn's voice was quiet, but there was no hesitation in it.
Six months. All that love and heartbreak — none of it could hold a candle to the two little lives growing inside her.
Everything from half a year ago felt like it belonged to someone else's story now.
All she wanted was to bring her babies safely into the world and raise them well.
"I'm glad." Monica let out a slow breath, then something seemed to surface in her memory. "You know, Matthew actually had people watching Ronald and me for a long time. Quietly."
"He never really believed you were gone."
"Thank God Mrs. Gray kept us in the dark."
"Because honestly? We could never have faked that kind of grief."
Evelyn nodded in agreement.
Susan was a seasoned strategist — she knew exactly what she was doing.
She hadn't just given Evelyn a new identity. Every trip to the island had been handled with painstaking care. In front of Matthew, Susan had maintained a convincing mask of grief, even donating several schools in Evelyn's name as a public memorial.
She had covered every angle, inside and out — quietly cementing the world's belief that Evelyn was gone.
Not long after the funeral, Susan had sat down with Evelyn and proposed the same plan for her mother. A staged death, handled discreetly, with her mother transferred abroad to a private care facility for treatment.
Now, Evelyn had nothing left to worry about.
She spent her days on the island, and in her quiet hours, worked through the financial and business materials Susan sent her.
"The babies must be coming soon?" Monica offered her a cluster of grapes, eyes bright with anticipation.
"Next week is the due date." Evelyn rested a hand on her belly. "I feel like I've been inflated like a balloon. Even walking tires me out now, and I haven't slept properly in weeks."
"I'm kind of desperate to meet them already."
Monica looked at her with a quiet ache in her chest.
Evelyn had rounded out considerably since the last time she'd seen her — even her toes had swollen. Pregnancy was hard enough on its own, but twins? Monica couldn't imagine.
They were still talking when a sharp cramp seized Evelyn without warning.
She looked down. There was warmth between her legs.
Her water had broken.
"Oh my God!" Monica noticed at the same moment. She shot to her feet, voice pitching upward. "Quick — I think Eve's going into labor!"
For a split second, everyone froze.
But training kicked in fast. The island's on-call doctor was already moving.
Evelyn was transferred to the medical room within minutes.
Sounds of labored breathing and low, pained moans drifted through the closed door.
Monica paced outside, her palms slick with sweat.
An hour later — a newborn's cry cut through the air. Then, almost immediately, a second.
One boy. One girl. Both safe.
Susan, who had arranged her South Africa business trip specifically to be nearby, received the news and arrived just in time to see the babies carried out.
Her hands flew to her mouth. Tears spilled before she could stop them.
She gathered one of the infants into her arms with trembling care, tracing the tiny fingers and the little button nose like they were made of something sacred.
"Hello, little ones," she whispered, her voice so soft it barely carried. "I'm your great-grandmother. I'm so happy you're here. You have to grow up strong and healthy — promise me that."
Then Evelyn was wheeled out of the operating room.
She was still pale, her hair damp with sweat, her lips cracked from effort.
Susan gently settled both babies beside her.
Evelyn looked down at those two tiny, wrinkled faces — and something moved through her that she had never felt before. Something overwhelming and warm and completely new.
From this moment on, she had two more people in the world who were hers.
"You went through so much, Eve." Monica's expression was caught somewhere between joy and heartbreak.
She felt a flicker of indignation on Evelyn's behalf.
While Matthew was somewhere else, lost in the romance of his first love, Evelyn had been here — a remote small island — bringing two children into it alone.
Evelyn smiled at her. "It's okay. It was easier than I expected." She paused. "And I feel so incredibly happy."
She'd planned for a natural delivery, but with twins, it hadn't been possible in the end — they'd switched to a C-section.
With an epidural, it hadn't been as brutal as she'd feared.
And both babies came out healthy. The doctor said so himself.
"Alright, don't wear her out," Susan said gently. "Let her rest."
Monica nodded, watching as Evelyn was wheeled into her room.
The babies were taken to the nursery by the nurses and nanny, kept warm and watched over in their incubators.
Evelyn slept through the entire night and half of the following day before she finally opened her eyes.
Susan was sitting at her bedside, watching her with quiet, tender eyes.
Becoming a mother herself had given Evelyn a new understanding of what her own mother had gone through all those years ago.
She looked at Susan, her emotions difficult to sort through.
"I keep thinking about my birth mother," she said softly. "How hard it must have been for her."
"Her diary said the labor lasted a full day and night. She had complications."
"She even ate eggshells — raw — from some old folk remedy, just to help things along."
Tears slipped silently from the corners of Evelyn's eyes.
Susan's hands went still.
"Sweetheart, don't cry." She quickly reached for a handkerchief and dabbed gently at Evelyn's cheeks.
"You just gave birth — you can't let yourself get too worked up." She paused. "I owe you both an apology. I failed you."
Evelyn held her gaze.
"You're clever — you probably pieced most of it together a long time ago, didn't you?" Susan began slowly.