Chapter 202

Chapter 202

Octavia took a cab from the airport back to the Seymour Family estate, her hands shaking the entire ride.

Not from fear, though—she was just desperate, wishing the car could sprout wings and fly.

The taxi stopped outside the Seymour Family gates. She paid, shoved the door open, grabbed her suitcase, and started walking.

The guard saw her and froze for a second, his mouth opening like he wanted to say something, but she was already striding past him.

Through the gate, across the garden, up the steps, through the front door.

The living room lights were on. Monica sat on the couch, phone in hand, head down, scrolling through something.

She heard the noise and looked up. The moment she saw Octavia, she went completely still.

Her phone slipped from her fingers and hit the carpet with a muffled thud.

Octavia didn't notice. Her mind was fixed on one thing.

"Monica, where's Leopold?"

The moment Monica saw Octavia, she froze for several seconds.

Then her expression shifted through a dozen emotions before her eyes turned red.

"You've got some nerve coming back here."

Her voice was sharp and shrill. She jumped up from the couch and rushed over, her finger nearly jabbing Octavia's nose.

"You lied to us this whole time! You're not even Claire—why didn't you say something sooner? Why didn't you tell me at the airport? Why didn't you explain when they brought you back here? You had a million chances to tell me the truth, and you never did! You just watched me make a complete fool of myself, didn't you? Did you think it was funny?"

Octavia opened her mouth to respond, but Monica didn't give her the chance.

"Do you have any idea how much I hated that Claire who insulted Leopold at the gala? I thought you were her. I went after you every single day, made your life miserable, and you must have been laughing at me the whole time, right? Laughing at how stupid I was, how gullible, how I couldn't even tell you apart! And Leopold—you lied to him for so long. He trusted you so much—"

Monica couldn't finish. Tears finally spilled down her cheeks.

She swiped at them with the back of her hand, but they just kept coming, unstoppable.

Octavia watched her—angry and hurt all at once—and felt something twist painfully in her chest.

"I'm sorry, Monica. I'll apologize properly later, I promise. But where's Leopold?"

Monica blinked, her emotional spiral interrupted by the question.

"What?"

"Leopold." Octavia's voice turned urgent. "Where is he? Is he home? At the office?"

Monica's mouth fell open, her eyes widening.

"You don't know yet?"

"Know what?" Octavia frowned.

Monica said, "Leopold flew to Veridian to find you."

Octavia went still.

He'd gone to find her. At the exact same time she'd flown back, he'd flown there.

"When?" Octavia heard herself ask, her voice sounding distant, dreamlike.

"A few hours ago, I think." Monica said. "John said he filed a flight plan early this morning and left. He didn't tell you?"

Octavia didn't answer.

She pulled out her phone and pressed the power button. The screen stayed dark. Dead battery.

She spun around and bolted upstairs.

"Octavia!" Monica called after her, but she didn't look back.

She ran up the stairs, burst into her room, dug the charging cable out of her bag, and plugged in her phone.

The screen lit up. She waited for it to boot, her finger tapping the screen over and over, willing it to hurry up.

Leopold had publicly defended her online, then immediately boarded a private jet to find her.

So he really wasn't angry. He didn't blame her for not telling the truth. He had something to say to her, didn't he?

What was it? What kind of feeling would make Leopold drop everything and fly across the country to see her?

Had he replied to her message, and when she didn't respond, decided he had to tell her in person?

Octavia could have kicked herself.

She was such a pathetic coward. She'd been too afraid to see Leopold's reply, so she'd let her phone die and hadn't even thought to charge it before getting back to the Seymour estate.

And now she'd missed it. Just like that, she'd missed it.

But mixed in with the regret was a flicker of hope and anticipation, tangled up with the occasional stab of anxiety.

She needed to know what Leopold meant. She needed to know so badly.

The more she thought about it, the slower her phone seemed to boot.

The screen flashed again—it was on.

At the same moment, a crash came from downstairs. Something had hit the floor. Not loud, but in the quiet house, it rang out clear as a bell.

Then the housekeeper's voice, laced with panic.

"Miss Seymour? Miss Seymour, what's wrong?"

Octavia's heart plummeted.

She dropped the phone, spun around, and ran out of the room, flying down the stairs.

In the living room, Monica was kneeling on the floor, her phone lying beside her.

Her face was white as paper, her lips trembling, her whole body looking like something had hollowed her out from the inside. The housekeeper crouched next to her, reaching out to help, but Monica didn't move.

"Monica?" Octavia hurried over and knelt down. "What happened?"

Monica looked up at her, and in her eyes was a kind of terror and bewilderment Octavia had never seen before.

Her lips shook for several seconds before sound finally came out.

"The plane. Leopold's plane. There's been an accident."