Chapter 253 You're Not Like Caroline Anymore
"You're the one who never looked for the real truth."
Edith was being strangled, her face turning purple, but she still managed a twisted smile.
"You blamed everything... on her... it was you... who never truly believed in her..."
Alexander's fingers began to shake.
"If you'd shown her even a shred of mercy back then... if you'd valued what little time she had left... instead of tormenting her for five years over my so-called death... she wouldn't have... lost all hope..."
Alexander's grip suddenly went slack.
After a long moment, he let go completely.
Edith collapsed to the floor, gasping and coughing.
She was still laughing.
"Now you're playing the devoted lover... who are you performing for? No matter how hard you try... no matter how much you make yourself look like her... Caroline's never coming back."
Alexander stood there, looking down at her.
He didn't answer. His gaze traveled slowly across her ruined face—from her damaged forehead to her brow, from her nose to her lips—as if seeing it for the first time.
"Not the same," he said quietly.
Edith's laughter died.
She looked up at him, unease flooding her eyes. "What?"
"Not the same at all." Alexander studied her face, his tone distant and clinical. "This face... doesn't look anything like Caroline now."
Edith's pupils shrank.
"The explosion at the dock destroyed your looks... now there's barely a trace of Caroline left."
Edith's breathing turned ragged.
She raised a trembling hand toward her face, but her fingers hung in the air, not knowing where to land.
"What... what are you going to do?" Fear finally crept into her voice.
The corner of Alexander's mouth curved upward.
"You and Caroline were twins. Apart from your personalities, you were nearly identical. Edith, with a face like this... what do you think that lunatic outside—the one who thinks he's me—will do when he sees you?"
Edith's whole body went rigid.
Alexander bent down, gripped her chin, and forced her to meet his eyes.
"The same rage I felt when Caroline's face was destroyed."
When Edith finally understood what he meant, her scream caught in her throat.
Alexander released her, straightened up, and looked her over again.
After a few seconds, he said, "The skin on your thighs should still be intact, shouldn't it?"
Mark stepped forward immediately and pinned her down, ignoring her struggles as he lifted her skirt.
The moment the fabric rose, an even more nauseating stench filled the air.
Mark's face twisted in disgust, but he still checked the skin on her thighs quickly before stepping back to Alexander's side.
"Sir, it's clean there. No wounds."
"Good." Alexander nodded.
"Find the best plastic surgeon and restore Edith to how she looked before."
Edith finally understood her fate completely, and she broke down screaming.
She tore free from the servants' grip and lunged at Alexander.
"Alexander, you're insane! You wanted to turn Caroline into me, and now you want to turn me into her? Can you only survive by creating endless substitutes?"
"Of course not." Alexander smiled, the expression as cold as frost on glass.
"I never needed a substitute, because the only person I've ever loved is Caroline. She's irreplaceable—no one can take her place."
He paused, his smile deepening.
"As for you, Edith, restoring your face isn't about making you into Caroline. It's so that when that lunatic outside sees you, he'll be even more obsessed with you. Isn't that fitting?"
A strangled, broken sound escaped Edith's throat.
Alexander's smile turned almost pleasant.
"Don't lose hope yet, Edith. You and Linus were lovers once, weren't you? Maybe one day he'll snap out of it, see you restored, and his old feelings might come back. Then maybe he won't hurt you anymore."
With that, he turned and walked out.
Edith collapsed on the floor, clutching at her collar, shaking uncontrollably.
She knew she was finished.
Alexander wanted her to relive every bit of pain Caroline had suffered.
Body and soul. No exceptions.
And even if Linus did regain his sanity someday, what then?
Edith knew better than anyone—Linus had never loved her.
From the start, she'd been nothing but a weapon in his hands, a blade to stab at Alexander in their power struggle.
Alexander returned to Ravenwood Manor as usual, still in the habit of laying out his bedding where the casket had once stood.
But that night, he wasn't drowning in despair.
Because he dreamed of Caroline. The dream was only fragments, scattered and brief, but he clung to those images desperately.
When he woke, he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time—a fragile kind of peace.
Daniel was right. The person who really killed Caroline was him. So he couldn't forget, couldn't escape, and couldn't die.
He had to remember her. Keep remembering until the day his own life ended. That was the least he owed her.
Just then, Mark walked in, his face grim.
He stopped in front of Alexander and said quietly, "Sir, Edith tried to kill herself at the villa last night."
"What?" Alexander's head snapped up.
"Don't worry, sir. She was being watched constantly. Linus found her right away. Edith's not in any danger—she's been taken to the hospital. The doctor said her injuries won't interfere with the surgery. The plastic surgeon you requested has also been found. They're just waiting for her to recover before they can operate."
Alexander exhaled slowly. "Good. Keep a close watch on her. Don't let her slip away."
"You can count on it, sir. The hospital room is under heavy guard—she won't get out. There's also something else."
Mark pulled an old phone from his pocket.
"We found where Edith was hiding after she came back to Grandhaven. There wasn't much there, but we found this. I turned it on—even though it's an old model, it still works. And... there's a video on it."