Chapter 283 You Think You Deserve to Be Here?
Irene was someone close to Caroline, caring for her since birth and staying by her side ever since.
If there was anyone in this world who truly understood Caroline, that person had to be Irene.
Alexander suddenly stood up.
At that same moment, footsteps sounded from outside the door.
Mark, worried about Alexander, had followed him after all.
Seeing that Alexander could still stand steadily and hadn't completely broken down emotionally, he finally felt genuinely relieved.
"Sir, you haven't eaten all day," he said in a low voice. "Would you like to go back to the estate for something to eat and come back later?"
Alexander thought for a moment, then suddenly spoke.
"Mark, do you remember anything about that maid named Irene who was with Caroline?"
Mark paused. He frowned, thinking for a few seconds, then nodded.
"A little. But I came late and never actually met her. I only heard Felix mention once when we were talking that Mrs. Hamilton did have an older maid by her side. But Felix didn't tell me much."
Alexander looked at him.
"Look into it," he said. "Find out where Irene is now. I... want to see her."
Mark nodded in response.
"Yes, sir. I'll get right on it."
The next evening, as soon as Alexander returned from the clinic, Mark came up to meet him at the door.
"Sir, I found her."
Alexander's steps stopped.
"Irene is still alive," Mark said. "But she's seventy-three now. She has no children and never married. She lives in a small house in the suburbs, about forty minutes' drive from here. As for that house..."
Mark paused, glancing at Alexander's expression before continuing.
"That house—I asked around—was bought by Mrs. Hamilton with prize money from a piano competition. If I'm not mistaken, that should be where Felix recovered back then."
The house was still being looked after by Irene. She lived alone with no family to rely on. As she got older, her legs weren't good anymore.
Sometimes volunteers from nearby would come to help her, cleaning the yard and buying groceries for her.
But apparently Irene had a difficult temper, and the volunteers found her hard to get along with. After a few visits, they weren't eager to return. So most of the time now, Irene stayed there by herself.
Alexander nodded.
"I see."
He hesitated, then instead of going inside, he turned and took his coat back down from the rack by the door.
"I'm going to see her."
Mark instinctively stepped forward.
"Sir, should I come with you?"
"No need."
Alexander shook his head.
"I'll go alone."
About forty minutes later, Alexander's car came to a stop on a narrow country road.
The surroundings were very quiet. In the distance were fields, and rows of trees stood along both sides of the road.
The trees looked quite old, with thick trunks and large canopies. Their branches overlapped overhead, and even in autumn, they still blocked out most of the light.
The small house was at the end of this road.
It was a house with a small yard, detached and not shared with others. The yard wasn't large, surrounded by a waist-high wooden fence.
The house was a two-story building with pale yellow paint on the exterior walls.
Several pots of chrysanthemums sat on the first-floor windowsill. Though it was early autumn, the flowers were blooming abundantly, with red and white blossoms crowded together, looking very bright.
Alexander parked by the roadside, turned off the engine, and looked through the car window at the small yard.
The yard was very tidy.
There were no fallen leaves on the ground, and no weeds in the corners. Against the wall was a small vegetable patch with a few tomato plants and some leafy greens that Alexander couldn't name.
What surprised Alexander even more was that there was also a lemon tree in the yard.
This tree was much smaller than the one in the Neville family's backyard, with a trunk only as thick as an adult's arm. But several fully yellowed lemons hung from its branches, swaying gently in the wind.
Alexander's chest felt like someone had suddenly gripped it hard. He stared at the small yard, feeling strongly that the style here was very close to what he imagined Caroline would like.
He thought about how her life had once been like the flowers in the yard, blooming quietly yet full of strength.
Then he appeared.
He personally pulled those flowers from the soil and destroyed them bit by bit.
Alexander's fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles aching from the excessive force.
Just then, the yard gate suddenly opened.
A thin old woman came out carrying a water bucket, limping.
Her hair was almost completely white, tied sparsely behind her head, her back slightly bent. With each step, her right leg dragged on the ground, as if her knee could no longer straighten.
She seemed to be heading to the vegetable patch to water it, but the bucket was clearly too heavy. Her body suddenly swayed.
Unable to steady herself orbear the bucket's weight, her whole body tilted to one side.
Water spilled heavily from the bucket. Her feet slipped, and she was about to fall.
Alexander immediately pushed open the car door and rushed over.
He grabbed the old woman's arm with one hand and caught the bucket about to fall with the other.
"Careful!"
Irene's body swayed before finally steadying.
She gasped for breath.
"No need, thank you. I can manage..."
"Let me," Alexander said. "Put the bucket down, I'll carry it."
Hearing his voice, Irene's movements suddenly stopped.
She slowly raised her head, squinting as she stared at Alexander's face for a long time. As she looked, her eyes suddenly widened, her expression becoming shocked.
"Mr. Hamilton...?"
Alexander's heart clenched. He slowly nodded, lowering his eyes, not daring to meet Irene's gaze directly.
Irene looked up, examining him carefully. No matter how closely she looked, she found it hard to connect the person before her with the young man in her memory.
He wore a well-tailored dark suit, good fabric, the style clearly custom-made. But the suit hung on him loosely, as if he had suddenly lost a great deal of weight in a short time, leaving only a thin frame.
Alexander was almost unrecognizable to Irene.
But what truly shocked her was his appearance.
His features still belonged to a young man. The shape of his brow bone, the line of his nose, the contour of his jaw—all still looked like that handsome young man from years ago.
But his hair had turned almost completely white, dull and dry. Judging by his hair alone, one could easily mistake him for an old man. Combined with his youthful face, it created a jarring sense of discord.
Irene herself was already an old woman nearing the end of her life, yet at that moment she realized that even her hair wasn't as white as Alexander's.
After a long while, Irene finally recovered from her shock.
But her expression suddenly changed. She forcefully pushed Alexander away.
"Get out! Get out of here! Don't show up here!"
Alexander was pushed back several steps. Seeing that Irene could lose her balance at any moment, he didn't dare completely let go of her arm, only lowering his voice to plead.
"Please don't get upset. Let me help you stand steady first, okay?"
"Get out!" Irene still shouted at him in a harsh voice. "You ungrateful person who can't even keep your own promises—how dare you come here?!"