Chapter 35
Evelyn didn't keep typing. The cursor blinked in the document thirty-some times.
She flipped her phone over, lit up the screen. That text was still there in the conversation thread.
About your mother—those words caught her eye.
Evelyn's thumb pressed against the edge of the screen but didn't move.
Sebastian never used this tone in texts. His messages were always commands—"Come home." "Stop making a scene." "I'm downstairs."
In three years of marriage, the longest message he'd ever sent was "Grab Arianna's medicine from the living room coffee table and bring it upstairs."
Now he was asking "would you be willing."
Evelyn set the phone down.
She needed to think through one thing.
Richard was the only person her mother had trusted in her final moments. The last call before her mother died had been to him. Evelyn had stood outside the hospital room door and heard her mother say in a faint voice, "Please look after Eve."
Seven years ago.
She'd never asked about the full contents of that call.
Not because she didn't want to. Because the fragments her mother had left behind were too few. Half a photograph, a silver ring, a past that had been cut away. Every time she tried to piece it together, she only got more pain and scattered clues.
At the Hawk family dinner, the old photo Nason had shown her—her mother in a white dress standing under a tree, smiling with her eyes curved into crescents.
That was a mother she'd never known.
The mother in her memory never smiled like that. Always wore dark colors. Spoke in a low voice. Checked the door locks repeatedly before going out. Signed documents with the surname "Kendall," not "Hawk."
A woman cast out by her family. A mother who died without ever being vindicated.
Evelyn closed her laptop.
The office lights were harsh white. Most of her neighboring cubicle coworkers had left. A few paper cups were scattered across the desks.
She picked up her phone and opened that text again.
When she read "about your mother," her heartbeat quickened by half a beat.
Not because of Sebastian.
Because of the word "mother."
Evelyn exited the text and opened her conversation with Sophie.
[Sebastian texted. Said his grandfather wants to see me. Wants to tell me about my mom.]
Sophie's reply popped up within thirty seconds.
[You going?]
[Thinking about it.]
[Do you want to hear the truth?]
Evelyn stared at those four words.
Yes.
Of course she did.
Sophie sent another message.
[I know what you're worried about. You're afraid this is a stalling tactic. He drags it past the cooling-off period so you can't get divorced.]
Evelyn didn't reply.
Because Sophie had nailed exactly the gear turning in her head.
Seven days left in the cooling-off period. If Sebastian didn't show up at the civil affairs bureau on day seven, the agreement was void. She'd have to file suit again, go through litigation. The time cost would be unpredictable.
He'd chosen this exact moment to send this text.
Coincidence?
Evelyn didn't believe in coincidences.
But she also didn't believe Sebastian would use Richard as a front.
Richard's kindness toward her was real. That eighty-year-old man had personally handed her a set of keys on her first day at the Ashford family and said, "This is your home." For three years, every time she and Sebastian had a cold war, Richard was the first to call and ask if she'd eaten properly.
Richard was her only warm connection in the Ashford family.
Sophie's third message appeared.
[Want me to come with you?]
Evelyn typed two words.
[No need.]
She set the phone face-down on the desk and closed her eyes for a moment.
She was torn. Going to the Ashford Estate meant walking back into their rules. But her mother's story—the half photograph, the emblem on the ring, and that look Frederick had given her before he collapsed—made it impossible to refuse.
What had been in that look?
Evelyn sat between those two voices for fifteen minutes.
Footsteps echoed from the far end of the hallway.
Unhurried. Dress shoes on marble, the rhythm steady.
Evelyn didn't look up.
The footsteps paused beside her cubicle for two seconds, then continued forward.
Three steps.
Stopped.
Cedric's voice came from behind her right shoulder.
"Working this late?"
Evelyn opened her eyes and turned her chair around.
Cedric stood in the middle of the aisle holding a folder, his tie loosened halfway, shirt sleeves rolled to mid-forearm. He'd come to the marketing department today to check on the Eastside project's phase progress. This was the third time he'd passed Evelyn's desk.
The first two times he hadn't stopped.
This time he did.
Evelyn's expression gave her away.
She knew.
Because Cedric had noticed something. His gaze moved from above the folder to her face and lingered for a beat.
Evelyn instinctively pushed her phone farther toward the center of the desk.
Cedric didn't look at her phone.
He just stood there, shifted the folder to his left hand, and put his right hand in his pocket.
"Send me the Phase Three environmental assessment report for the Eastside project by tomorrow afternoon."
"Okay."
He turned.
Took two steps.
Stopped again.
Evelyn watched his back. The hallway lights stretched his shadow long across the cream-colored tiles.
Cedric didn't turn around.
His voice was low but every word was clear.
"Some truths are better learned sooner rather than later."
Evelyn's fingers curled against the desk.
"Whatever it is, you can handle it."
After that, he left.
His footsteps echoed one by one, gradually disappearing around the corner.
Evelyn sat in her chair, staring in the direction he'd gone for five seconds.
He hadn't asked what was wrong. Hadn't asked what was on her phone. Hadn't asked if she was getting tangled up with Sebastian again.
He'd just said two things. Two things that were exactly enough.
Evelyn picked up her phone, opened the text. Her thumb hovered over the input box for three seconds. Didn't hesitate a fourth.
[I'll come. But not for you.]
Send.
She put the phone in her bag, zipped it up, shut down her computer, stood and pushed in her chair.
When she reached the elevator, she paused for a step.
She was doing this for that woman who wore dark colors, spoke in a low voice, and died without ever being vindicated.
Mom.
I'll go listen for you.
The Ashford Estate.
Seven days later.
Evelyn stood in front of the wrought-iron gate, finger hovering over the doorbell button. Didn't press it.
The last time she'd come here was half a month ago to visit Grandpa. By then the greenery in the yard had already been replaced by Arianna, and most of the staff faces were new.
Three cars were parked at the entrance today.
She recognized two of them. One was Sebastian's charcoal gray Maybach. The other was the butler Allen's black Buick.
The third she didn't recognize. A black car with dark-tinted windows. Couldn't see anything inside.
Evelyn pressed the doorbell.
The gate opened.
Allen stood on the inside, his hair whiter than it had been half a month ago. When he saw Evelyn, his lips moved like he wanted to say something, but in the end he just stepped aside and made way.