Chapter 418: I Don’t Know
At the mention of Charles, a flicker of resentment crossed Daniel's eyes. He'd always believed Charles bore responsibility for Emily's disappearance. If Charles hadn't insisted on that divorce, Emily would never have been in that accident. For three years, he'd searched for Emily while quietly investigating Charles, yet found nothing. Now all his hopes rested on Elodie.
Elodie's heartbeat quickened, cold sweat dampening her palms. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her skin, using pain to anchor herself to composure.
She lifted her head, forcing herself to meet Daniel's gaze though her eyes flickered uncertainly. "I'm not lying. Daniel, I truly don't know where Emily is. God knows I want to find her too."
She did want to find Emily—wanted to know what she was doing in Eldoria, when she'd return. But she couldn't say anything. Couldn't let selfish impulses sabotage Emily's plans.
Daniel studied her evasive expression, his conviction deepening. Elodie definitely knew something. She just refused to tell him.
He softened his tone, voice edged with pleading—utterly unlike his former composed self. "Elodie, I'm begging you. Emily's my cousin. The Campbell family and I—we can't lose her. I've searched every single day for three years. Just tell me she's safe. That's all. I won't ask anything more, won't bother you again. Please?"
Elodie's heart wavered. Looking at Daniel's haggard appearance, the obsession and anguish carved into his features, guilt flooded through her. She desperately wanted to tell him Emily was safe, to end his torment.
But she couldn't.
She drew a deep breath, burying the guilt beneath ice. Her voice turned cold, almost irritated. "Mr. Scott, I've already told you—I don't know. If you're not here for medical care, please leave. You're disrupting my work. Otherwise I'll have to call security."
The words hit Daniel like ice water. The pleading vanished from his face, replaced by profound disappointment and stubborn refusal. He stared at Elodie for a long moment—so long she nearly broke—before slowly rising, his voice hoarse. "I don't believe you. Elodie, I won't give up. As long as Emily's alive, as long as you know something, I'll keep coming back. Until you tell me the truth."
Without another word, he turned and walked out.
Alone in the exam room, Elodie stared at the closed door. Finally she dropped the façade, sagging against her chair, hands covering her face, shoulders trembling slightly.
Guilt and helplessness engulfed her like a riptide. She didn't know how much longer she could endure this—how much longer she could hold out. And when Emily finally reappeared, how would all these lies and obsessions resolve themselves?
She pulled out her phone, scrolling to that anonymous number. Her finger hovered over the screen for a long time before she gave up. All she could do was pray silently—pray Emily would finish whatever she needed to do and return soon, ending this torture for everyone.
Outside the exam room, Daniel leaned against the wall, pulling out his phone. His voice was low and resolute. "Run another check on Elodie's movements. Especially her recent call logs and travel records."
Elodie rubbed her throbbing temples. Daniel's pleas, Emily's trust—she could barely breathe under the weight.
Just then, her phone screen lit up. An anonymous text appeared—no name, but Elodie's heart jumped. Emily's number.
In three years, they'd barely communicated. If Emily was reaching out now, something significant must have happened.
The message was brief: "Elodie, I need a favor. Go to Windsor Manor and check on Charles. I need to know if he's really too ill to get out of bed. Keep it quiet. Just report back what you see."
Elodie stared at the screen, fingertips trembling slightly. She'd known it. That flicker of emotion Emily had shown when reading the intelligence report had never truly settled. She claimed indifference, but her heart still cared.
Elodie didn't hesitate. She immediately typed back: "Okay."
Even though she knew visiting Windsor Manor meant confronting people and situations she'd deliberately avoided for years—possibly even running into Daniel again—this was Emily's request. The only thing she could do for her missing best friend.
Elodie shed her white coat, changing into simple casual clothes. No makeup, bare-faced. She didn't drive—just hailed a cab straight to Windsor Manor, emotions churning the entire way.
Windsor Manor looked the same as three years ago: imposing, dignified, the courtyard lush with greenery. But it had lost its former liveliness, replaced by an oppressive gloom that hung in the air.
Elodie stood outside the gate, took a deep breath, and pressed the bell. An elderly servant answered—one who recognized her as Emily's former friend. After a moment's hesitation, he respectfully invited her inside.
"Ms. Garcia, you're here to see the master?" the servant asked softly as he led her toward the main building.
"Yes, I have something I need to discuss with Charles." Elodie kept her tone carefully neutral, wary of arousing suspicion.
The servant's expression grew troubled. "Mr. Windsor hasn't been well recently. He's declined all visitors—even family rarely sees him. Perhaps I should notify Mr. Brown instead?"
Elodie's heart sank. So the intelligence was accurate. Charles's condition might truly be dire. She nodded. "Yes, please. Thank you."
Moments later, a man in a sharp black suit strode toward her, posture rigid and professional. Seeing him, Elodie's steps faltered, breath catching slightly.
Nathan.
Three years. This was their first encounter since then.
Back then, Nathan had coldly rejected her, claiming his complicated position would only drag her down. After that, Elodie had deliberately avoided any situation where they might meet. She'd stopped pursuing him, tried learning to let go of this impossible love.