Chapter 313 Do You Think He Believes It?
The atmosphere in the hospital room felt strange. Dylan looked up, studying William with curiosity.
He wanted to see how William would answer this question.
The room fell silent for a long while.
A breeze blew in from outside, making the curtains rustle.
William's low voice carried a hint of hoarseness.
"Juniper, she..."
"She jumped from a building, too."
Benjamin narrowed his eyes, carefully watching William's expression.
But he really couldn't think of any reason William would need to lie to him.
The William before him looked terribly thin, with exhaustion practically spilling from his eyes.
Benjamin could sense that the trace of sorrow in his eyes wasn't fake.
His hands gripped the blanket tightly. He opened his mouth, wanting to ask more.
Sunlight from outside fell across his face, and he heard sparrows chirping.
Summer light should have been warm, but as it shone on him, he felt a chill rising from deep in his bones.
William's voice slowly continued.
"She killed herself out of guilt."
He stared into Benjamin's eyes and went on.
"After she pushed Isabella off the building, she hid for a month, but I still found her."
"That day, I cornered her on the rooftop. I asked her why she did it."
William's voice paused.
He pressed his lower lip, his voice trembling as well.
"She said she'd wanted to do it for a long time."
"If Isabella hadn't been in her way, if Isabella hadn't competed with her for everything..."
"She wouldn't have had to die."
Benjamin listened to William's words, unable to speak anymore. But the shocking news William brought him was just beginning.
Now Dylan was certain that William was acting.
Maybe when he mentioned Isabella, the sadness in William's eyes was real.
But everything he did after that was a performance.
Since William's performance hadn't stopped, it meant his resolve wouldn't be changed by anyone.
The room fell into another brief silence.
William stood there waiting, waiting for Benjamin to digest all this information.
It wasn't until five minutes later that Benjamin finally looked up. He gazed at William's face and said softly,
"Is there anything else I don't know about?"
William's suppressed voice slowly asked,
"Do you still remember the name, Lester?"
"Juniper had him set the fire that killed Beatrice. I already have solid evidence."
"Isabella was supposed to burn to death, too, but Isabella got lucky."
Benjamin fell silent again.
In that household, the love Juniper received was no less than what the two sisters got.
His wife had even treated Juniper almost like her own daughter.
Benjamin really couldn't understand how depraved Juniper had to be to do such terrible things.
Did Juniper have no conscience at all?
But Benjamin didn't say these things out loud.
His mind was still a mess.
Even his emotions had a kind of blurred calm.
He should be sad, he should be crying for his dead daughter.
But Benjamin's eyes were dry.
His legs had regained some feeling, so he threw off the blanket and walked to the window.
William looked a bit worried and gave his subordinate a look,
afraid that Benjamin might not be able to handle it and jump straight out the window.
But Benjamin just stood in the sunlight, looking down at the hospital grounds below, at the patients moving around.
Those patients all had smiles on their faces. Some were taking walks, others doing rehabilitation exercises.
They all had family members with them. Not one of them was alone.
Benjamin watched those people below. His fists clenched tight, but he still couldn't hold back from asking one last question.
"What about Isabella's mother? Where is she?"
William thought for a moment.
"She left, very decisively."
"Before she left, she asked me for a check for one hundred million dollars."
"I thought she needed it urgently, so I gave it to her."
As William said this, he reached out toward Dylan.
Dylan then took an envelope from his bag.
The handwriting on this envelope had been done by someone he'd hired to imitate Isla's handwriting.
He was certain that when Benjamin saw this letter, he wouldn't suspect anything.
Because even handwriting experts couldn't find any flaws.
William stepped forward and handed the envelope to Benjamin.
"It wasn't until three months ago, when I received this letter, that I learned she'd left the city."
"For her safety, I checked the contents of the letter. You should read it yourself."
Benjamin took the letter.
He held it and read it three times, even checking every punctuation mark.
This was definitely Isla's handwriting, no mistake.
But the content of the letter, he really couldn't accept.
Isla's message carried a hint of coldness and finality.
Because he'd been unconscious for too long, because she couldn't see any hope, she didn't want to stay with a vegetable who would never wake up.
So she'd asked William for one hundred million dollars in cash and fled the city.
She was going to a new city to start a new life, to forget all the pain that had come before.
The corners of the paper were creased from being gripped.
As Benjamin looked at this letter, he finally couldn't hold back a tear.
That tear fell on the writing, immediately smudging a large area.
"I don't believe it."
"She wouldn't do this to me."
Benjamin shook his head. Suddenly, he crumpled the letter into a ball of waste paper, threw it on the floor, and stomped on it several times.
"No way, she wouldn't do this."
"She's not that kind of person."
William sighed softly. "You can know someone's face but not their heart."
"In this world, anything can happen."
Benjamin raised his eyes. He stared at William's face.
Hearing his last words, he still refused to believe the facts William had told him.
He couldn't possibly accept such facts.
William wasn't in a hurry. His tone was as restrained as before.
"Get some good rest."
"Tell me if you need anything."
"I'll find time to come see you later, too."
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, William led Dylan and the others out of the hospital room.
Now, only the caregiver and Benjamin remained in the room.
Benjamin stood by the window, looking at the people below. He tilted his head, murmuring,
"No way, absolutely not."
When William got into the passenger seat, he turned his head to glance at Dylan, who had temporarily switched places with the driver.
"Do you think he believes it?"
William's eyes became very bright, different from the cold, desolate look in the hospital room.
Now his face carried a kind of wild smile.
Dylan's hands gripped the steering wheel. He thought for a moment.
"Maybe he believes it, maybe he doesn't."
"But after receiving so much information in one day, I think he'll definitely go looking for the truth."
A smile appeared at the corner of William's mouth. He turned to look ahead and said,
"He still needs half a month of recovery before he can leave the hospital."
"In that half month, a lot of things can change."