Chapter 193

Chapter 193

Octavia sat up straight. "What?"

"The driver from your parents' accident," Sierra said. "I found him."

Octavia's fingers clenched tight, her knuckles white around her phone.

"What did you say?"

"The driver who was seriously injured that day and then mysteriously disappeared from the hospital—the one you've been searching for all these years. Remember?" Sierra spoke quickly. "He contacted me. He's abroad. Alive and well."

Octavia's heartbeat quickened until she could barely hear what Sierra was saying.

That driver was the only survivor of the crash.

If he was still alive, he would know the truth.

Why had he disappeared? Had someone forced him into hiding, or had he chosen to vanish? Octavia had been investigating for years without a single lead.

After all this time, why would he suddenly reach out?

"Why did he contact you?" Octavia's voice was tight.

"He said he's been following news about the Boleyn Family all these years. He saw your performance on the show and thought you were someone he could trust." Sierra paused. "He also said he has something to tell you about what really happened."

Octavia's hand trembled slightly around her phone.

She didn't believe the driver's explanation. His appearance at this particular moment couldn't be a coincidence—someone had to be pulling strings behind the scenes.

Whether that person was friend or foe remained unclear.

She had waited so many years, searched for so long. Finally, this day had come.

"Where is he?" she asked.

"In Veridian, a small city," Sierra said. "I've already bought a plane ticket. I'm planning to fly over and meet him."

"No." Octavia cut her off. "I'll go."

Silence on the other end.

"Octavia, you're at the Seymour estate. You can't just leave." Sierra's disapproval was clear. "And you're the center of media attention right now. Reporters are looking for you everywhere. The moment you step outside, they'll be on you."

"I don't care about that." Octavia stood up. "Sierra, I've been looking for him for six years. Six years. This is the closest I've ever been to the truth. I can't risk anything going wrong. I have to go myself."

Sierra fell silent again, then sighed.

"Fine. I'll send you the address. But be careful—don't let anyone know where you're going. I'll keep an eye on the media situation here and contact you immediately if anything comes up."

"Okay."

The evening light fell across Octavia's face, lending a touch of warmth to her pale complexion.

Her heart was still racing, but she forced herself to stay calm.

She needed to confirm Leopold's schedule for the next few days so she could leave without him noticing.

She left her room and went downstairs.

John was in the living room talking to a bodyguard. When he saw her coming down, he nodded slightly.

"Mrs. Seymour."

"John." Octavia approached, keeping her tone casual. "Where's Mr. Seymour?"

"Mr. Seymour went to the office," John said. "He likely won't be back for several days. The board members are meeting, and there's quite a lot to handle."

Relief washed through Octavia, though her expression remained neutral.

"I see."

She turned to go back upstairs, then stopped after a couple of steps.

"John, I'm going out for a bit."

John looked at her. "Mrs. Seymour, where are you going? I'll arrange for a driver."

"That's not necessary." Octavia said. "I'll drive myself. It's a personal matter."

John opened his mouth as if to say something, but seeing the blank expression on Octavia's face, he swallowed his words.

"All right. Drive safely."

Octavia nodded and headed upstairs quickly.

She changed into inconspicuous clothes, pulled her hair back into a ponytail, put on a baseball cap, and stuffed a few changes of clothes and essential documents into her bag.

Before leaving, she stood in front of the mirror and looked at herself.

The woman in the reflection wore a black hoodie and cap, looking no different from any ordinary girl on the street.

She took a deep breath, grabbed her bag, and walked out of the room.

When she came downstairs, John was still standing in the living room.

He took in her outfit, his brow furrowing slightly, but he didn't ask questions.

"Mrs. Seymour, are you sure you don't need a driver?"

"I'm sure." Octavia changed her shoes without looking up. "If Mr. Seymour asks, just tell him I'll be back soon."

Though she wasn't sure Leopold would even care where she went. She had a feeling they'd had a fight.

The thought made Octavia's mood sink further, but she didn't let John see it. She pushed open the door and walked out.

John stood in the living room. After a moment's hesitation, he pulled out his phone and made a call.

A few days later, as the online controversy continued to escalate, a long post appeared online.

It came from Octavia's own account, with no advance warning. She simply posted it without any inflammatory headline.

Octavia's post was divided into three sections.

The first section contained bank transfer records, clearly showing that after the Boleyn Family went bankrupt, Marshall sent Octavia and Claire only enough money each month to barely cover food, while during the same period he'd bought himself a new house and a new car.

She also posted the payment records from when Marshall had pushed Claire into fulfilling the marriage contract—the money the Seymour Family had paid.

That money had gone into Marshall's personal account. Not a cent had been spent on Claire.

The second section detailed Marshall's own misdeeds. Octavia posted scans of old documents—receipts proving that when Marshall had racked up massive gambling debts, her parents had paid them off for him.

One transaction after another, with clear dates and specific amounts.

She also posted a police report showing that over a decade ago, Marshall had been detained for disorderly conduct, and her parents had bailed him out.

The third section was Octavia's own statement.

She used no inflammatory language. Her tone was calm, as if she were recounting something that had nothing to do with her.