Chapter 94
There were no mirrors in the church. She'd only hastily washed her face that morning, never noticing any marks on her neck.
Under Alicia's scrutiny, Adeline calmly dropped her hand.
"There are lots of bugs in the mountains. It's just an insect bite."
"Really? An insect bite?" Alicia looked skeptical.
"What else would it be?" Adeline challenged.
"I guess it must be an insect bite."
Alicia refused to believe anything had happened between them last night. Up ahead, Vivian had stopped walking and was listening to their conversation.
Apparently, deciding their exchange revealed nothing threatening to her, Vivian's smile became more genuine.
"You two can chat later. Let's hurry back—everyone in the village is waiting for us."
They all quickened their pace down the mountain.
Back in the village, Kaia immediately dragged her husband over to apologize to Adeline.
"I'm so sorry about last night. I said some things I shouldn't have. I had no right to drive you away."
"It wasn't your fault. I shouldn't have wandered off like that."
Even Adeline found it hard to explain what she'd been thinking.
She just hadn't wanted to see anyone or go to any villager's home. She'd wanted to find a place where no one was.
Preferably somewhere no one could find her.
Even knowing that entering an unfamiliar church on the mountain was dangerous, she'd acted as if she weren't herself, as if she'd completely lost the ability to think rationally.
She'd just walked right in.
If she hadn't met Gage, she wouldn't dare imagine what might have happened.
After saying goodbye to the villagers, Adeline rode back with Edward's group.
She'd initially planned to take the bus, but Alicia was unexpectedly enthusiastic, and Randy also said he was heading back with them.
In the end, Adeline didn't refuse.
They had driven up in two cars—the men in one, the women in another.
Alicia drove while Vivian sat in the passenger seat.
She glanced at Adeline in the back.
"Ms. Brown, would you consider us friends?"
"Why do you ask?"
Adeline wasn't naive. She neither confirmed nor denied.
"I consider us friends."
"If you think so, then I guess we are."
Vivian looked satisfied. "Then, as a friend, can I ask a favor of you?"
"What kind of favor?"
Vivian smiled at Adeline. "You're so smart. Don't worry, it's nothing difficult. You won't need to do anything except say a few words. And I'm not asking you to help me now—I just want you to agree that when I need you, you'll be there."
"Say a few words?"
Adeline couldn't imagine how that would help.
Was Vivian asking her to plead with someone on her behalf? But with Vivian's social status, she shouldn't need Adeline's assistance.
"Will you agree?"
"I need to think about it," Adeline said cautiously.
Vivian didn't push. "That's fine. Take your time. Though I'm confident you'll eventually say yes."
There was a strange certainty in Vivian's tone.
It made Adeline uncomfortable, as if Vivian knew something she didn't and was deliberately being mysterious.
When they parted, Vivian waved to Adeline.
"Goodbye. We'll see each other again soon."
Adeline watched the car drive away, still puzzled by Vivian's cryptic words.
She shook her head, deciding not to dwell on it.
Lily was already calling her phone.
After returning home, Vivian went straight to see her father, Wesley Clark. She wrapped her arms around his neck, coaxing him sweetly.
"Dad, I need a favor."
"What kind of favor?"
"I want to reopen Edward's case."
Wesley pondered this. "Wasn't that case settled six years ago? Besides, the evidence and testimony were solid. Reopening it won't be easy."
"The evidence and testimony were solid then, but what if the witness recanted now?"
Wesley looked at Vivian indulgently. "If you can get the witness to change their story, I'll help you reopen the case."
"Thank you, Daddy! You're the fairest judge in the world!"
Vivian hugged Wesley tightly.
Six years ago, Wesley hadn't presided over Edward's case—he hadn't been a judge yet. But now things were different.
She knew this matter was a thorn in Edward's side. If she could help him reopen the case and clear his name...
She didn't believe Edward could refuse her then.
---
Edward and Anson walked into the hospital and pushed open the door to the ward.
A man lay in the bed—Zach. His neck was still wrapped in bandages, his vocal cords destroyed. He could no longer speak, but his physical recovery was progressing well.
When he saw them enter, he instinctively smiled.
He opened his mouth to speak, then remembered he couldn't produce sound. He awkwardly attempted some sign language.
Anson handed him paper and a pen. "You've only been learning sign language for a couple of days. Better write it down."
Zach wrote a line on the paper.
[You saved my life.]
"To be precise, it was our Mr. Thomas," Anson corrected.
Zach's gaze fell on Edward. For a moment, his eyes looked distant, as if seeing someone else's shadow in Edward.
[Mr. Thomas?]
His hand trembled as he wrote.
Edward nodded slightly. "That's me."
Tears welled in Zach's eyes. His next words were written in shaky handwriting.
[I thought I'd never see you again. That car accident destroyed your family. I've been hiding for years. You saving me now... I guess that's fate.]
"Why were you hiding?" Edward asked.
Though Edward appeared calm, he felt an unusual tension inside—something he hadn't experienced in years.
Zach sighed and slowly wrote on the paper.
[I was your father's driver for many years. He trusted me completely. I knew about his business deals and projects—he never kept things from me. I know he had a partnership with the Brown family.]
At this point, Zach's emotions seemed too overwhelming to continue. He paused to collect himself.
Edward poured him a cup of hot water.
"Take your time. There's no rush."
After waiting all these years, a few more moments wouldn't matter.
Zach took a sip of water and continued: [I remember they had a good relationship at first. They promised to grow the company together on joint projects. There was a government-funded project at that time. Your father's company didn't have enough capital, so he brought in Jeremy as a partner.]
[Everything was going smoothly, but after signing the contract and transferring the funds, Jeremy suddenly approached your father about using all the money for a different project.]
[He kept insisting this other project would be hugely profitable, but your father disagreed. He thought Jeremy's project was too risky. They argued in the office. Later, Jeremy came to me.]
[He offered me money to tamper with the car, hoping your father would have car trouble on the day he was supposed to sign the contract, causing him to miss the signing.]
Edward's hands clenched tightly. "Did you agree?"
[No! I did not!]
Zach wrote with two emphatic exclamation marks. He opened his mouth to speak, forgetting his condition, then frantically wrote again, his handwriting even messier than before.
[Your father gave me my chance in life. I could never harm him. But I didn't tell him about Jeremy's offer either. I was afraid of the consequences. Then on the day of the signing, your father's car really did have problems—but I had checked it thoroughly before departure! It shouldn't have malfunctioned!]
That's why the judge had ruled the accident was due to mechanical failure rather than sabotage. Zach had doubted himself for years.
Had he not checked carefully enough? Had he said something wrong?
Later, when the Thomas family fell, he lost his job and became even more afraid to speak up.
When he tried to find new work, he kept running into obstacles. He suspected someone was targeting him.
So he left the city.
He moved to that small village in Seaside City, his hometown.
"Rest well. I'll come see you again soon," Edward said.
Edward left the hospital and got into a sedan waiting at the curb.
Anson glanced at Edward in the rearview mirror. "What do we do now, Mr. Thomas?"
Edward closed his eyes.
"Let's go back first."
Anson started the car. As the black sedan glided smoothly along the road, Edward took out the notebook filled with Zach's handwriting and examined it.
Word by word. Sentence by sentence.
All evidence pointed to Jeremy's involvement.
If he really was behind it, this would be both old and new grudges combined.
His phone rang in his pocket. He took it out and looked at the screen.
The caller ID read: Mr. Thomas.
"Mr. Thomas," Edward answered.
A deep male voice came through the phone, "How many times do I have to tell you what you should call me?"
Edward was silent for a moment. "Father."