Chapter 127

The Taylor family's reaction to the materials was more intense than anticipated. That same afternoon, Vaughn summoned Amelia home. In front of Imogen, he slammed the documents onto the coffee table. Standing in the center of the living room, Amelia could no longer maintain her former obedient, sensible facade. Tears mixed with her makeup as she shrilly tried to defend herself.

Vaughn didn't listen. He simply looked at this daughter he'd cherished for eighteen years as if she were a stranger. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse: "Leave. There's no place for you in the Taylor family anymore. You can take the house and car, but I'll have finance do a full accounting of the money in your accounts. Every cent that belongs to the Taylor family—you won't touch a dime of it."

Amelia stood frozen, as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. She turned toward Imogen, hoping she would step in to defend her like she always had before. But Imogen sat on the sofa without a word, hands clasped in her lap, gaze fixed on those documents, refusing to look at her. Amelia finally understood—this time, no one was going to bail her out.

She stood there crying for a while, crying until she could barely make a sound, then turned and rushed upstairs to pack. Her movements were frantic, as if afraid that slowing down would let something catch up to her. The wheels of her suitcase scraped harshly against the stairs, and the final sound was the heavy slam of the villa's front door.

After Amelia left, the Taylor Villa living room remained silent for a long time. Vaughn sat down beside Imogen, placing his hand over her cold one, and said quietly, "We failed Evelyn."

Imogen didn't answer. She simply closed her eyes as tears traced down the wrinkles at their corners. Her daughter had walked that dark, endless road for so long, returning with wounds that would never wash clean—and she, as a mother, hadn't even lit a single lamp to guide her way.

The news reached the White Mansion after dinner. Chase called to report the progress: Amelia had moved out of the Taylor Villa and was temporarily staying at a hotel. The lawyer's letter had been delivered, and the media clarification was being published simultaneously. Benjamin acknowledged this with a brief response, then hung up and turned toward Evelyn in the living room.

She was playing chess with Maddox. Black and white pieces crisscrossed the board. Maddox placed a piece and chuckled, "You're getting more ruthless at this." A slight smile curved Evelyn's lips as she twirled her piece twice before setting it down. Benjamin leaned against the doorframe watching for a long time—so long that Evelyn noticed his gaze and looked up. Across half the living room, neither spoke, but the emotions in their eyes were clearly visible under the lights.

That evening, as Evelyn returned to her room, Benjamin gently caught her wrist in the hallway. She stopped but didn't pull away, only turned her head to look at him. His fingertips rested against the pulse at her wrist, feeling its steady, strong rhythm. When he spoke, his voice was low: "Back then, when you escaped from that place—how far did you walk alone?"

Evelyn was silent for a moment before answering: "Three days. No food. My shoes rubbed my feet raw. Finally, a cargo truck gave me a ride into the city."

Benjamin's fingers tightened slightly. The pulse beneath them remained steady, as if that past had been properly tucked away in a drawer she rarely opened. "You'll never have to walk alone again."

Evelyn looked up at him for a long time—so long that the motion-sensor light at the end of the hallway dimmed and brightened again—before she softly hummed in acknowledgment. That single syllable was light, yet it landed in Benjamin's ears with the weight of a thousand pounds. He released her wrist, his fingertips sliding across the back of her hand, touching skin that was slightly cool. They each returned to their rooms, separated by a wall. Lying in bed staring at the ceiling, Evelyn suddenly felt that wall wasn't quite as thick as it used to be.

Two weeks later, Maddox had his follow-up examination. All his indicators continued to improve. When Albert returned from the hospital with the test results, the smile on his face was irrepressible. He rushed into the living room and handed the report to Evelyn, saying repeatedly, "You're incredible." Evelyn took the report and flipped through it. Though her expression didn't change much, the light in her eyes couldn't be hidden.

Maddox sat nearby, watching her feigned composure, and cheerfully patted the back of her hand: "You saved my life."

Standing in the doorway watching this scene, Benjamin felt something in his chest finally loosen completely. All these years he'd been searching for medical experts who could save Maddox. After going in circles for so long, that person had been sleeping in the room next to his. He thought of everything Evelyn had done silently over the years—preparing medicinal formulas for him, studying rehabilitation techniques, managing his diet and daily care. She'd never sought credit for any of it, and even when he'd repeatedly favored Amelia, she'd never used these things to defend herself. Only now could he fully grasp the weight of that silence.

Once Maddox's health improved, the first thing he did was drag Benjamin into the study, close the door, and give him a thorough scolding. Maddox's voice was strong and clear, his cane thumping loudly against the floor: "If you ever let Evelyn down again, this life you helped me get back—I'll let you make me so angry I lose it all over again!" Benjamin stood before Maddox, neither dodging nor defending himself, taking the reprimand obediently. At the end, he said quietly, "Grandfather, I won't."

Maddox studied the rare earnestness in his expression, snorted, and decided to let him off the hook for now.

Outside the study door, Evelyn heard the commotion and couldn't help smiling. She turned and walked toward the garden, where the autumn ginkgo trees were in full bloom. When the wind blew, the ground was covered in scattered gold. She bent to pick up a few leaves and held them in her palm. Benjamin appeared behind her somehow, standing two steps away. Without turning around, she said, "Benjamin, the ginkgo leaves are falling. Another year is almost over."

Benjamin stepped forward to stand beside her, also looking down at the golden carpet, and replied, "Yes, but I believe next year will be even better."

Evelyn turned her face to look at him. Autumn sunlight fell across his brow, coating his entire figure in a warm, gentle glow. She suddenly remembered many years ago—also an autumn day like this—when he'd chased after her across the school field, calling out, "Evelyn, wait for me." Back then they'd both been so young, young enough to think a lifetime was just one straight road with no forks, no getting lost.

Later, the road did fork. They each walked a long, winding path. But at the end of those detours, they'd found their way back to each other. The sweetness of that mint candy seemed to linger still on her tongue—not too strong, not too faint, just enough for her to remember this autumn. She blew the ginkgo leaves from her palm, letting them scatter in the wind. The golden fragments drifted down, like drawing a light, complete period at the end of this long, long journey.