An Unexplained Heartbeat
"You're outside the gate?" Jack rushed to the window, phone in hand.
"Yes, Jack. Hurry and get the guard to open the gate. I'm fine; don't worry about me." Alison said, stealing glances at Matthew. "Your father and my mother are both at the ancestral home, Jack."
"Who's in the car? Is it Matthew, Pierre, and Cassandra?" he asked urgently.
"Yes, Jack. I need to go find my mom."
Under Jack's instructions, the gates of the ancestral home swung open.
Cassandra swiftly guided the vehicle toward the basement.
The car pressed through patches of grass, and everyone's gaze was fixed on the approaching destination.
The vehicle stopped before the wall.
Alison jumped out, parted the grass that Cassandra had mentioned, finding the recessed button on the wall. Her heart pounded as she pressed it. The wall slowly retracted and slid aside, revealing a winding staircase that led downward.
Alison hurried into the stairwell and descended the damp steps swiftly.
She moved quickly, illuminating the path ahead with each light switch she pressed.
After descending several dozen steps, the corridor opened before her.
Exactly as Cassandra had described in the car, standing opposite each other on either side were two transparent glass chambers.
She sprinted forward. Through the glass, she finally saw...
A man bearing a striking resemblance to Jack—likely Maxim.
Alison turned to the other glass enclosure, tears instantly welling in her eyes.
That had to be her mother; her face was eerily similar to her own.
She stood frozen, staring at the woman inside.
With her eyes closed, the woman leaned pale against the wall, her ankles and wrists shackled with iron chains.
Matthew, who had followed her in, instinctively gasped, "Daphne."
Alison snapped back to reality, clutched the key, and rushed toward the special glass door.
Her hand trembled as she inserted the key into the lock.
Tears streamed down her face, soaking her eyelids and cheeks.
"Let me handle this." Matthew snatched the key from her grasp.
The door swung open, releasing a wave of damp, musty air.
"Daphne..."
"Mom..."
The two calls stirred the woman slumped against the wall.
Slowly, her eyes fluttered open.
"Cassandra, I must go out. I must see my child," she cried repeatedly.
Though her voice was faint, each word pierced Alison's heart with unbearable pain.
"Mother, I'm here..." Alison knelt before her mother and cupped her face. "Alison is here. I've come to take you away from this place."
Daphne's face was icy cold, yet upon hearing Alison's voice, her vacant eyes finally focused on her. Her lips trembled slightly before she finally asked, "Are you... Alison?"
But as soon as the words left her mouth, she shook her head. "No, Alison is still small. She needs my milk. You're not my Alison.”
"Mom, I am Alison. Your Alison has grown up. Emmy has grown up too, Mom. I'll bring her to see you." Alison held her tightly.
Those repeated calls of “Mom” finally touched a chord in Daphne's heart.
"Am I dreaming?" Alison,” she murmured, her voice trembling.
"No, Mom. Alison is really here. Let's leave here. I'll take you out right now. From this moment on, you're free."
"Daphne, why didn't you tell me?" Matthew had been standing there all along, his heart churning.
To exact revenge on Daphne and Maxim, he had Emily steal Alexander's will, causing Jack to harbor resentment toward Alison. He had intended for the Winston family's son and Daphne's daughter to become entangled in incest and turn against each other. He'd never expected that it would be his own daughter who suffered.
Daphne's body jerked violently. She retreated toward the corner, huddling and trembling. "Don't... don't come closer."
Matthew frowned and extended a hand.
"Don't be afraid, Daphne. From now on, I will never hurt you again." His voice was soft, yet Daphne continued to tremble and retreat until her back hit the wall, leaving her with nowhere to go.
At that moment, Pierre opened the door to another specially designed glass chamber.
The door swung open, and Maxim, dragging chains on his feet, staggered toward her.
"Are you all right, Daphne?" he asked, his voice hoarse yet soft.
Though they had been within arm's reach all these years, it felt as if an ocean separated them.
Daphne slowly lifted her head.
"Take me away from here, Maxim." Her eyes brimmed with tears, and bitterness etched her pale face.
Matthew's expression shifted slightly.
Twenty years ago, he might have told her without hesitation, "Don't even think about it."
But now, he realized he no longer had that right.