Chapter 216 Impostor

Chapter 216 Impostor

Eleanor put down her phone, a knot forming in her stomach.

Terrence came in with a glass of water. Seeing she was awake, he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Saw the news?"

"Yeah." Eleanor took the glass and sipped. "Did you do it?"

"No." Terrence shook his head. "I just cut ties with the Wells family. What happened after that was all Kirk's doing. He wanted to trade Freya for cash to save the company. Tobias made an offer, so he sent her over."

Eleanor was quiet for a moment. "What's happening with Freya now?"

"She ran." Terrence's tone was flat. "Got beaten for days. When she couldn't take it anymore, she ran back to the Wells mansion looking for her mother. Susan grabbed her and they left Rosewood City. No idea where they are now."

"You can't find out?"

"Didn't look." Terrence met her eyes. "They're not worth my time anymore."

Eleanor paused, her expression softening. "True."

Terrence leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Get up and have breakfast. We've got a lot to deal with today."

Eleanor nodded and got up to wash up.

She had no interest in tracking down Freya's fate anymore.

She remembered when Freya had stormed into the studio causing a scene, slapped Lily, bought bot accounts to spread plagiarism rumors about her, tried to drag her down—Eleanor remembered every single thing.

She also remembered the look of complete devastation on Freya's face when Terrence rejected her.

Some people don't need others to destroy them. Their own choices are enough to do the job.

Meanwhile, in a rundown rental on the outskirts of Rosewood City.

Freya curled up on a moldy mattress, her face still showing fading bruises, her arms covered with marks left by Tobias's belt. She wore a stained nightgown, her hair matted—no trace left of the pampered rich girl she used to be.

"Mom, what are we going to do?"

Susan sat by the window, staring at the gray sky outside. Her lips moved for a long time before she finally spoke. "Freya, I'm sorry."

Freya buried her face in her knees, tasting nothing but bitterness.

She used to look down on Eleanor, thinking a divorced woman wasn't good enough for Terrence.

Now she understood—it wasn't that Eleanor wasn't good enough, but that she herself could never reach that kind of life.

The more Freya thought about it, the more resentment burned in her chest. She quietly took out her phone, scrolled through her contacts, and started calling her old friends one by one.

Some people made up excuses about bad reception and hung up as soon as they heard her voice. Others just didn't answer.

Finally, someone picked up and laughed coldly. "Freya, you've got some nerve calling me. After what you did to me back then, now you want my help? Dream on."

Freya bit her lip, tears welling up.

She kept calling, but not a single person was willing to help her.

Freya threw her phone on the bed and started crying, trying to muffle the sound.

After a while, she picked up her phone again, mindlessly scrolling. She stumbled across a news article—Terralena Studio had won an award, and Eleanor, as the studio owner, had given an interview.

In the photo, Eleanor wore a sharp suit, standing on the award stage with a bright, confident smile.

The comments were full of praise:

[Eleanor is incredible!]

[After divorce, she's absolutely thriving!]

[This is what a woman should be like!]

Freya stared at the photo, jealousy clawing at her chest. She switched to a backup account, wanting to leave some vicious comments, but found—the account had been permanently banned.

The platform's reason: [This account has engaged in malicious attacks on others.]

It was the same account she'd used to buy bot followers and spread plagiarism rumors about Eleanor.

Freya stared at the words "permanently banned" on the screen and suddenly felt that what was banned wasn't just an account, but her entire life.

Susan went out with a kettle to get hot water. She hesitated in the hallway for a long time before finally calling Jane.

The phone rang several times before being answered.

"Jane..." Susan's voice was thick with tears.

"Susan." Jane's tone was even.

"Jane, can you help me and Freya? We really have nowhere else to turn..."

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds before Jane spoke. "When Freya was buying bot accounts to spread rumors about Eleanor, did you think this day would come? When you and your daughter deliberately made things hard for Eleanor at the Thornton family mansion, did you think this day would come?"

Susan couldn't find words.

"If you'd known it would come to this, you shouldn't have done those things." Jane hung up.

Susan stood in the hallway, clutching her phone, frozen.

She remembered many years ago, when Jane first came back to the Wells mansion.

Back then, Jane had been thin and timid, always speaking carefully.

She'd thought this sister was easy to push around and never took her seriously.

Now, everything had changed.

Susan smiled bitterly and went back to the rental with the empty kettle. "No water."

Freya was still curled up on the mattress. "Mom, I want water."

Susan looked at her, eyes red. "Freya, I'm sorry."

"Mom, if I hadn't gone after Eleanor back then, would everything be different now?" Freya buried her face in her knees, her voice shaking.

Susan lowered her eyes. She'd been asking herself the same question over and over.

But what's done is done. No one could turn back time.

Hernandez Corporation, CEO's office.

Knox knocked and entered, holding a document, his expression troubled.

"Mr. Hernandez, I have results on what you asked me to look into."

"Go ahead."

Knox hesitated, then handed over the document. "Mr. Hernandez, the little girl who saved you back then... it wasn't Lavinia."

Harold's expression shifted immediately. He grabbed the document and scanned it quickly. Attached was a photo of a scar on a little girl's wrist—identical to the scar on Eleanor's wrist.

He remembered Eleanor did have a scar on her wrist. He'd asked about it once, and she'd just said she'd hurt herself as a child. He hadn't thought much of it at the time.

Knox said quietly, "Mr. Hernandez, the real person who saved you was Ms. Mitchell. Hospital records show that the treatment date for her wrist injury matches perfectly with your kidnapping."

"Her mother said that when Ms. Mitchell came home that year, she was covered in injuries. After asking repeatedly, Ms. Mitchell finally admitted she'd saved a kidnapped little boy."

Harold closed his eyes, his mind reeling.

For the sake of an imposter, he'd neglected the person who actually saved him for over ten years.

"I believe Lavinia somehow found out you were looking for your savior and knew about the scar, so she deliberately burned a similar mark to impersonate her."

Harold gripped the document tightly, his eyes turning ice cold. "Where is she now?"

"Lavinia came to Hernandez Corporation looking for you today but was stopped by security. I heard she's been hounded by creditors recently with nowhere to go."

Harold laughed coldly. "Have her come see me."

"Yes." Knox immediately went to make arrangements.

Half an hour later, Lavinia was brought into the CEO's office.

She was much thinner than the last time they'd met, and her makeup couldn't hide how haggard she looked. As soon as she entered, she rushed toward Harold with red-rimmed eyes. "Harold, you finally agreed to see me! I..."