Chapter 186 Carson’s Silence
Annabelle’s heart pounded as she stood outside Carson’s office door. The folder in her hands felt heavier than it should, the edges digging into her palm.
Her breath came unevenly, and the echo of her father’s voice played in her mind — “Those closest to you may not be who they seem.”
She pushed the door open without knocking. Carson looked up from his desk, surprise flickering across his face. “Anna?” he said, his tone cautious.
Annabelle walked in quickly and dropped the folder in front of him. Papers spilled out — printed emails, transaction records, encrypted message transcripts. “Explain this,” she said, her voice sharp and trembling.
Carson stared at the papers, his face unreadable. He didn’t reach for them. He didn’t even blink.
“Victoria,” Annabelle said, her tone hardening. “Your mother was behind everything. The false accounts, the forged documents, the entire setup that ruined my father. I have proof now.”
Carson leaned back slowly, his jaw tightening. “Where did you get this?”
“That doesn’t matter,” she shot back. “What matters is you knew, didn’t you?”
He didn’t answer. He just looked down at the papers, his expression dark and tired.
“Carson!” she shouted, the sound echoing off the walls. “Did you know?”
He finally looked at her. His eyes were heavy, almost pleading. “It’s not what you think,” he said softly.
Annabelle took a step closer, anger burning through her. “Not what I think? My father lost everything. He spent years in prison for a crime your mother planned! You sat beside me through every hearing, every sleepless night, and you knew?”
Carson stood slowly, his voice breaking when he spoke. “I didn’t want this. You have to believe me, Anna. I didn’t want any of it.”
Annabelle’s chest tightened. “Then why didn’t you stop it?”
He turned away, his shoulders tense. “You don’t understand what she’s capable of.”
“Then help me understand!” she demanded.
He ran a hand through his hair, pacing the floor. “When I found out… It was already too late. The files were already fabricated. The accounts were already open. My mother—she said it was to protect me, to protect the family’s name. She said your father was going to destroy everything.”
Annabelle shook her head slowly, disbelief washing over her. “So you just went along with it?”
“I tried to stop her!” he said quickly, desperation creeping into his voice. “But she—she threatened to cut me off, to ruin me too. She said if I talked, I’d end up like your father.”
Annabelle stared at him, her throat dry. “And you believed her.”
Carson lowered his head. “I was scared, Anna. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Her lips parted, but no words came. The man she had trusted, loved, defended—he had known all along.
“You watched me fall apart,” she whispered. “You held me while I cried for my father, and you still said nothing.”
“I thought if I could protect you from the truth, it would hurt less,” Carson said weakly.
Annabelle laughed bitterly. “Protect me? You betrayed me!”
Carson flinched. “I didn’t mean to—”
“You let my father rot in prison!” she shouted. “You let me hate him for things he didn’t do!”
Tears filled her eyes, but she didn’t look away. Her voice cracked, raw and full of pain. “Do you even know what that did to me?”
Carson stepped forward, reaching out to her. “Please, Anna—”
“Don’t touch me!” she snapped, stepping back. “You don’t get to say my name like that. Not anymore.”
He froze, his hand falling to his side. Silence filled the room, heavy and suffocating.
Annabelle looked down at the scattered papers. Each one was a piece of truth she had fought to find, a truth Carson had hidden from her.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asked quietly, almost pleading. “You could have stopped all this pain.”
Carson swallowed hard. “Because if I told you, you would have gone after her. And she would have destroyed you.”
Annabelle blinked back her tears. “She already did.”
He closed his eyes, guilt twisting his face. “I wanted to protect you. I thought—if I could fix it quietly—”
“Fix it?” she interrupted, her voice trembling. “You can’t fix betrayal, Carson. You chose her.”
Carson’s voice dropped to a whisper. “She’s my mother.”
“And my father was your victim,” Annabelle said coldly.
He looked at her then — really looked. His lips trembled like he wanted to say something, but no words came.
Annabelle stepped closer, her tone low but firm. “I loved you, Carson. I believed in you. And all this time, you were part of the lie.”
Carson’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry,” he said, barely audible.
She shook her head slowly. “Sorry doesn’t erase what you did.”
The air between them grew still. The clock on the wall ticked softly, marking each painful second.
Annabelle gathered the papers, her movements sharp and steady. She slid them back into the folder and looked at him one last time.
“I’m going to clear my father’s name,” she said quietly. “And when I do, your mother won’t be the only one facing justice.”
Carson’s face paled. “Anna, please—”
“Don’t,” she said, cutting him off. “You’ve had enough chances to tell the truth.”
She turned toward the door. Her hand lingered on the handle, trembling. For a moment, she almost looked back. But she didn’t.
She walked out, her footsteps echoing down the corridor, leaving Carson standing alone among the ruins of his silence.
The door shut behind her with a hollow thud — the sound of trust breaking forever.
And for the first time, Carson felt the full weight of what his silence had cost him.