Chapter 482

Evelyn hesitated before answering, "I can't confirm it. Before the incident, I thought I saw Rosalind, but I'm not certain if it was really her."

The name Rosalind Summers hadn't surfaced in three years. Evelyn had even sent people to investigate, but there had been no trace of her in Stoslo either.

Edmund set down his teacup and slid a photograph across the table. "I received this a year ago. Someone likely wanted me to look into it."

Evelyn studied the image—a woman in a mask and cap, standing in the crowd after the incident. The height, the build—it matched Rosalind perfectly.

Her eyes widened. "Uncle Edmund, who sent you this?"

Edmund's lips thinned. "Him."

Evelyn didn’t press further, but her expression darkened. She didn’t want to confirm whether he was the one investigating this.

Edmund studied her. "Do you hate him, Zoe?"

Hate?

Evelyn wasn’t sure. He had never given her a reason to hate him. But resentment? Yes. For breaking promises. For his cruelty. For never searching for her all these years.

Even if someone was digging into her past, she refused to believe it was him.

It could be the Goldmanns. Or her grandfather.

If it were Nathan, he would have come for her by now. If he suspected anything, he would have shown up in Morwich. But he never did.

Maybe he had moved on.

Then why investigate the incident?

For Chloe?

Yes, Chloe had died. Oliver had lost his sister. Even if Nathan didn’t care, Oliver would have demanded answers.

Seeing the turmoil in her eyes, Edmund sighed. "If you were waiting for him to come find you… it’s probably impossible now."

Probably impossible?

Evelyn stiffened, then laughed bitterly at herself. Was she still holding onto that hope?

Edmund’s voice was calm. "Because he can’t come."

Her breath hitched. "Why?"

Even after three years, she still cared. Nathan was a thorn in her heart—too painful to remove, too deep to ignore.

Edmund exhaled. "He’s sick. Rumors say it’s terminal."

"That’s impossible!" Evelyn shot to her feet. "He was fine three years ago!"

"Were you there to see it?" Edmund’s gaze was steady. "Maybe that’s why he asked for the divorce."

Evelyn froze.

She had always suspected Nathan was hiding something when he ended things so abruptly. Theodore had demanded the divorce for years, yet Nathan only agreed after returning from Stoslo.

Was he really sick?

Her voice trembled. "How did it happen?"

Edmund didn’t flinch. "He contracted it in Stoslo."

"No!" Evelyn collapsed back into her chair, face pale. "He was already shot there—how could he be sick too?"