Chapter 87

"You can't answer the phone like this." Evelyn didn't need to glance at the screen to know who was calling.

Olivia's head dropped as tears streamed down her face.

"Come on, wipe your tears and follow me." Evelyn couldn't offer comfort. She pulled out tissues and handed them to Olivia—the only small kindness she could manage.

Olivia refused the tissues. She inhaled sharply, swiped the tears from her cheeks, and stepped into the hospital.

A crying woman walking through a hospital wasn’t unusual. People glanced but didn’t stare. Grief was common here.

The elevators were quiet in the afternoon.

Soon, Olivia reached her father’s floor.

"I need the bathroom."

She couldn’t let her father see her like this—red-eyed, broken.

Evelyn waited silently outside.

Inside, Olivia splashed cold water on her face. The mirror reflected her swollen eyes, her trembling lips. She couldn’t steady her breathing.

When she emerged, Evelyn warned, "If you don’t want your father’s condition to worsen, you need to pull yourself together."

Olivia almost snapped. Tell me, how?

She walked past Evelyn and entered the ward.

The nurse excused herself when she saw the patient’s daughter arrive.

Evelyn followed, her presence darkening Robert’s expression.

"Dad," Olivia whispered.

Robert’s glare at Evelyn held pure hatred. The look of a man betrayed by the woman he once loved.

Olivia already knew. If Evelyn dared to say it, the truth was irreversible.

"I came to tell you something," Evelyn announced, stepping forward. "I never planned to disrupt your lives, but fate brought me to Evelyn. She’s remarkable. I adore her."

Her smile was plastic as she draped an arm over Olivia’s shoulders. "Imagine my shock when I learned her last name was Sinclair. My own daughter, grown up. Since we’ve reunited, I think it’s destiny. With you unwell and the old man just back from Japan, Evelyn needs support. A mother like me won’t hurt."

Olivia didn’t pull away. She couldn’t risk her father seeing the cracks.

Robert studied them both, baffled by Evelyn’s sudden maternal claim. But if his daughter didn’t object, he wouldn’t interfere.

"Fine. Talk. I’ll wait outside." Evelyn squeezed Olivia’s shoulder—a silent warning. Don’t mess this up.

Alone, Robert hesitated before speaking weakly, "Evelyn, come here. I need to ask you something—"

"Dad, don’t." Olivia couldn’t bear to relive the abandonment through his words.

Silence was all she wanted.

She’d never cared about her biological mother—until now.

Acknowledging Evelyn wasn’t the issue.

"Think it through," Robert murmured. "When I’m gone, at least you’ll have someone."

Olivia finally lifted her head. "The neighbors said my mother left with a rich man after having me. Grandpa said the same. So why does she have a son four years older than me?"

The puzzle piece clicked.

Robert’s face confirmed he knew. "Your mother wasn’t single when we met. She’d been hurt before. Had a child. The father refused responsibility."

His voice turned bitter. "Later, I learned the man was powerful. Wealthy. Your mother gave him a son."

He didn’t finish.

The ending was obvious. Every fear had come true.

The illegitimate son was claimed. The mother returned to wealth, leaving the man who’d healed her behind.

Olivia didn’t remember returning home.

She moved like a ghost, mechanically cooking dinner for Grandpa and Olivia.

Olivia eyed her over a bite of rice. "Did you lose your mind?"

"No. Eat." Olivia forced a smile.

"Ugh, don’t. You look worse smiling than crying." Olivia knew something was wrong. It had worsened since afternoon.

They stayed quiet for Grandpa’s sake.

After dinner, Olivia washed dishes, head bowed.

Olivia hovered. "You look like you’ve been crying."

"Dad’s condition…" Olivia deflected.

"Really?" Olivia wasn’t fooled.

Terrified she’d break, Olivia finished the dishes and gritted her teeth. "Goodnight."

Olivia was moving back home tonight.

Grandpa rocked on the balcony, chatting with a new bird Olivia had bought.

Olivia held back until she couldn’t. She shut the living room door behind Olivia, then collapsed against the bathroom door, sobbing.

The lock turned.

The door opened.

A weary man stepped in.

Dominic wore a suit, his usual icy demeanor sharper. Keys dangled from his fingers—car keys, and the house key Olivia had taken.

Face-to-face, Olivia’s tears fell faster.