Chapter 297

Evelyn tried to sit up, but Nathan quickly reached out to steady her, his expression tight with concern. "Zoe, how are you feeling?"

She studied his face—dark circles shadowed his eyes, and a faint stubble roughened his jaw. Exhaustion clung to him, yet it did nothing to diminish his striking features. "Much better," she murmured, pulling her gaze away. "No discomfort at all." Her tone was light, as if she'd merely woken from a nap.

Then, realization struck. "Wait—my assessment results—"

Nathan's brows knitted together, his voice dropping into a chastising murmur. "You're worried about grades after nearly dying?" His jaw tightened. "I should have those organizers punished for their negligence."

As he moved to stand, Evelyn's fingers curled into his sleeve. "Stay."

His gaze flickered down to her—stubborn, yet oddly endearing in her demand.

She's trying to be commanding, but it just comes off as adorable.

A smirk tugged at his lips. "No 'please'?"

Evelyn exhaled sharply. "Please."

Nathan blinked, momentarily speechless.

Chloe cleared her throat, reluctantly interrupting. "Since you're awake, Evelyn, we should address the Winifred situation."

Evelyn's attention snapped to her. "What happened to Winifred?"

Chloe hesitated. "We caught the man who released the viper. He confessed Winifred ordered it. We detained her, but she refused to admit anything."

Winifred? Behind the attack?

Evelyn's lips pressed into a thin line, her mind racing.

Nathan's voice cut through the silence, cold and unyielding. "If she won't talk willingly, use other methods. Break her."

Chloe stiffened. Those methods were brutal—hardly fitting for a young woman, no matter her crimes.

Evelyn spoke suddenly. "I want to see her."

The interrogation room door swung open, flooding the space with light—and revealing Winifred sprawled on the floor, a crimson pool spreading beneath her, a knife clutched in her lifeless hand.

Evelyn froze.

Nathan's palm covered her eyes instantly. "Don't look." He turned to Chloe, voice sharp. "Call the police. Bring everyone who interrogated her this morning to me—now."

Police cars swarmed the training camp. Winifred's body was zipped into a bag and carried away, the onlookers' faces grim.

Among them, Felix Boucher watched, stunned. He'd never liked Winifred, but this—this was a waste.

Back in the hospital room, Evelyn sat stiffly on the bed, her expression unreadable. She'd had her grievances with Winifred, but she'd already exposed her with that recording. She never imagined it would end like this.

Chloe said they'd held her for two days without food or water, yet she still wouldn't confess.

Winifred was a coward at heart. If she'd truly orchestrated this, she would've cracked under pressure.

Something wasn't adding up.