Chapter 211 Ambiguous Video

Chapter 211 Ambiguous Video

Garth paused, then added: "Besides, Cecilia and I didn't suffer at all. The orphanage director was really good to us, and the other kids there were nice to us too. Cecilia would often take me climbing over walls to sneak out and play. We even secretly pulled up all the flowers and vegetables the director planted, and she got so mad she chased us for ages!"

As Garth spoke, he giggled, his voice clear and full of that carefree quality unique to children.

He even vividly mimicked the director's exasperated expression, making Sylvia laugh through her tears.

Sylvia imagined that scene, and her heart felt warm. So even without her by their side, Garth and Cecilia had lived such vibrant, lively lives.

"Yeah!" Garth proudly lifted his little face. "Cecilia and I also hid the director's wig, and she looked for it forever!"

The more he talked, the more excited he got, as if those mischievous experiences were the most precious childhood memories he and Cecilia shared.

Listening to his cheerful chatter, Sylvia's guilt didn't lessen—instead, it was tinged with even more heartache.

Behind Garth's casual mention of "not suffering much" lay the resilience and maturity that he and Cecilia had developed facing the world alone without their parents' protection.

In their own way, they had packaged those moments of hardship, that loneliness of longing for their parents' company, into what children saw as "fun."

Sylvia could imagine how Cecilia, in that orphanage, had acted like a little adult, protecting young Garth, teaching him how to find joy in adversity, how to use an optimistic facade to hide inner vulnerability.

Garth continued rambling about his memories with Cecilia, and when he got to the happy parts, he'd excitedly wave his little fists.

But Sylvia's eyes gradually grew moist.

She held Garth tighter, her chin gently resting on top of his head, feeling his small, vibrant heartbeat.

"Mom..." Garth's voice suddenly dropped, carrying a hint of sleepiness. "Mom, are you crying?"

Sylvia quickly blinked, forcing back the moisture in her eyes, adjusted her voice, and said softly: "No, I just think Garth and Cecilia are both amazing. I'm proud of you."

Garth seemed satisfied with this answer. He contentedly nuzzled against Sylvia's neck, his voice growing quieter and quieter. "Mom, I'm proud of you too. You and Dad are both the best..."

His breathing gradually became steady, and he soon drifted into sleep.

But Sylvia couldn't fall asleep for a long time. She looked at Garth sleeping in her arms, then thought of Cecilia training far away on the island.

They were Sylvia's weakness, but also her strongest armor.

She was proud of them, her heart ached for them, and for them, she had to become stronger.

Just as Sylvia's thoughts were wandering, her phone vibrated slightly on the nightstand.

She picked up her phone. The screen lit up—it was a text from Henry.

A warmth passed through Sylvia's heart. Henry must be missing her so much he couldn't sleep either.

She opened the message, but it wasn't the tender goodnight she expected. Instead, it was an abrupt sentence.

[There's something important you need to know.]

Sylvia's brow furrowed slightly, and an uneasy feeling arose.

Before she could reply, a second message popped up—a video file.

Her doubts deepened. What couldn't Henry tell her over the phone that required this method?

She glanced at Garth sleeping beside her, carefully got out of bed, and walked to the empty corridor outside the medical room. The night breeze was cool, carrying the island's distinctive salty smell, calming her chaotic thoughts somewhat.

She opened the video.

The footage was shaky, the lighting dim, as if filmed in a bedroom without the main light on.

Then, suppressed, embarrassingly intimate sounds suddenly came through the speaker without warning.

Sylvia's pupils contracted sharply, and she instinctively hit the mute button.

Her heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, and her breathing stopped for a moment.

In the video, a well-defined male back occupied most of the frame. That broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted silhouette looked exactly like Henry. Beneath him, a flawless female arm hung limply, long hair messily spread across the pillow, and Skylar's pitiful face could be vaguely seen in profile.

The footage was explicit, every detail screaming of their indecency.

A cold fury rose from Sylvia's heart.

But beneath that anger was more doubt.

Something's wrong.

Henry isn't like this.

He just solemnly made his vows to me, then turned around and slept with Skylar?

It doesn't make sense.

Moreover, given Skylar's personality—wanting the whole world to know about her relationship with Zachary—if this really happened, why would she use this kind of secretly filmed, blurry video to provoke her?

Sylvia forced herself to calm down, rewound the video, and examined it frame by frame.

She quickly found the flaws. Though the man in the video had a build similar to Henry's, there was a barely perceptible stiffness in his movements, and the light transitions were extremely unnatural, like crude AI face-swapping.

So that's it.

A cold smile curved Sylvia's lips.

Skylar's methods were truly crude and disgusting.

Sylvia didn't delete the video. Instead, she directly called Henry's number.

The phone rang for a long time before being answered, but what came through wasn't Henry's deep voice. Instead, it was an ambiguous, deliberately amplified sound of a man and woman's intimate breathing, accompanied by Skylar's faint crying and moaning.

That sound was almost identical to the background audio Sylvia had muted in the video.

Skylar couldn't even put on a complete act.

Sylvia could almost imagine Skylar on the other end, holding Henry's phone, playing this crudely made recording, smugly waiting for her to break down, cry, and become hysterical.

Too bad Skylar was going to be disappointed.

Sylvia didn't hang up. She even let out a light laugh. That laugh, in the quiet night, coming through the receiver, sounded particularly clear and particularly jarring.

The breathing sounds on the other end stopped abruptly, replaced by a panicked gasp.

"Ms. Reed," Sylvia's voice was unhurried, carrying a lazy mockery, "late at night, working so hard on your performance—aren't you tired?"

The other end fell into deathly silence.

"If you're that desperate, go find a real man," Sylvia's tone grew colder, each word like a knife. "Holding my fiancé's phone, playing a synthesized audio, fantasizing about being with him—don't you find that pathetic and laughable?"

Sylvia paused, as if giving Skylar time to digest the humiliation, then added a few more words in a "helpful" tone.

"Oh, and if you want to fake this kind of thing next time, find someone with better skills. This video you made is garbage—blurry and stiff. It doesn't even show a tenth of Zachary's capabilities."

"You're not just insulting my intelligence with this nonsense—you're insulting his stamina. If he finds out, he's going to be angry."