Chapter 112 They Really Have an Adopted Daughter
Isabella had been so gentle just moments ago. What had changed?
Caroline's fingers dug into her skirt. She didn't dare speak. Her head stayed down, unease coiling tight in her chest.
The car tore through the streets, finally sweeping through the grand gates of the Neville Family estate.
But the moment they entered the grounds, Caroline felt it.
Something was wrong.
Too quiet.
The gardeners who usually trimmed hedges, the staff who swept the courtyard—gone. Only a handful of stone-faced security guards patrolled the grounds in silence.
Her pulse quickened. Her voice came out shaky. "Mom… I just remembered—I need to get back. Alexander's lunch. I have to make it. Maybe we could go shopping this afternoon instead?"
Isabella turned. Her hand shot out and locked around Caroline's wrist.
"We're already here." Her voice turned cold, sharp as frost. "And are you really sure Alexander's coming home for your lunch today?"
Caroline froze.
She was right. Alexander had been with her lately, yes. But after every moment of intimacy, his eyes held something distant. Complicated. The shadow of what had happened to her—it never left. This morning, he hadn't even said goodbye. He probably wasn't coming back.
While she hesitated, Isabella yanked her out of the car.
The guards closed in immediately. Silent. Efficient.
Panic flared. Caroline struggled, her voice breaking. "Mom! Don't do this! I'm scared! I want to go back to Ravenwood Manor!"
"Scared?" Isabella's laugh was bitter. She tightened her grip and dragged Caroline toward the main building. "Did you ever think about whether Edith was scared when she died at the docks?!"
The words struck like a slap.
"No… Mom, it wasn't like that!" Tears spilled down Caroline's face. Her words tumbled out, frantic and broken. "I didn't want it to happen! I didn't know Edith liked Alexander too! I never thought—after he proposed to me—that she'd run to the docks because she was heartbroken! I didn't mean for any of it!"
Isabella whipped around.
Had she forgotten how Edith died? And now she was spinning lies, blaming Edith for her own death?
Rage tore through her. Her hand flew up and cracked across Caroline's face.
The slap echoed. A red handprint bloomed instantly across Caroline's cheek. She stumbled, hit the ground hard. Her hand pressed against her burning skin as she stared up at Isabella's twisted expression.
Isabella's whole body shook. She pointed a trembling finger at her. "Shut your mouth! You lying little wretch! You're still trying to smear Edith's name?! Gag her! I don't want to hear another word!"
A guard stepped forward. He ripped off a strip of heavy-duty tape and slapped it over her mouth, ignoring her muffled cries and thrashing limbs.
"Mmph—mmph!" The sounds came out strangled. Tears streamed down her face.
The guards hauled her up like a sack of grain and dragged her toward the house.
Isabella walked ahead, her voice ice. "Take her to the basement."
The iron door groaned open. Damp, stale air rolled out.
Caroline was shoved inside. She hit the floor hard.
She lifted her head. Through the blur of tears, a figure came into focus.
Celeste.
The woman who'd barged into Ravenwood Manor. Who'd said all those strange, unsettling things.
What was she doing here?
Caroline made a desperate, muffled noise. Her eyes went wide with terror.
Celeste turned. Saw her crumpled on the floor. A slow, satisfied smile spread across her face.
She walked over and slipped her arm through Isabella's.
"Mom, you went yourself? You should've let the staff handle the dirty work."
Isabella glanced at Caroline with pure disgust. "This one's gotten bold. If I hadn't gone myself, I'm not sure we could've gotten her out."
Mom?
Celeste called Isabella Mom?
Caroline felt the ground drop out from under her.
Celeste really was the Neville Family's adopted daughter? She was here to replace Edith?
How could they do that? Let someone else take Edith's place?
But why… why couldn't she remember the family ever adopting another daughter?
Watching them stand there, so close, so comfortable, Caroline understood.
This was a trap.
Isabella had lied. Her father's birthday. The dress shopping. All of it—lies.
She thrashed harder, trying to break free.
A guard stepped forward. He dragged her to a sagging couch in the corner and slammed her arm down on the wooden armrest. Rough rope bit deeper into her skin as he tied her in place.
Caroline sobbed behind the tape. She stared at Isabella's cold face, at Celeste's smug grin. She didn't understand. Why would her own family do this to her?
Isabella didn't look at her again. She turned to the guard. "Why isn't the helicopter ready yet?"
"Ma'am, there's been a delay in dispatch. About ten more minutes."
Isabella's jaw tightened. She glanced toward the window. "Ten minutes? That's too long. Tell them to hurry."
She turned and left, as if even looking at Caroline was beneath her.
Celeste followed. But before she disappeared, she glanced back. Flashed Caroline a victor's smile.
The heavy door slammed shut. Darkness swallowed the basement whole.
Caroline struggled. The rope bit deeper into her flesh.
The darkness amplified everything—her breathing, the pounding of her heart, the cold seeping up from the concrete floor, crawling into her bones.
This feeling… she'd felt it before.
Like a forgotten memory clawing back into her mind. She really had been locked in a basement like this once.