Chapter 142

A sudden warmth spread across the back of Evelyn's hand.

Alexander's grip tightened around her fingers, forcing her to sign the name Evelyn Sinclair on the last page.

It was her name, but written in his handwriting.

When he finished, he released her hand abruptly, pulling the papers away. His gaze lingered on the signature, an unexpected heaviness settling in his chest. Instead of relief, an oppressive weight pressed down on him.

He glanced down at Evelyn, still kneeling on the floor. Her face was ghostly pale, tears shimmering in her sightless eyes. A thin trail of blood stained her lips—she must have bitten down too hard. She looked broken.

Alexander frowned. "Evelyn, do you have any last requests?"

"Five hundred thousand dollars," she answered without hesitation.

A derisive scoff escaped him. "You came prepared, I see. I'll have the money transferred immediately."

His phone buzzed before he could say more.

When he answered, Victoria's honeyed voice drifted through the speaker. Evelyn heard his response, soft and indulgent. "I'll be there soon."

Then, he turned away.

The dim remnants of her vision darkened with each step he took, until finally, there was nothing. Just endless black.

Something inside her shattered.

The shards stabbed into her heart like jagged thorns.

Blind eyes lifted toward where he had disappeared. In that moment, she understood—her love for him had always been a solitary performance.

Alexander, thank you for stopping by.

I hope I never see you again—not in this life, or the next.

Evelyn braced herself for the end. Though she couldn’t see her own reflection, she could feel her body failing.

Yet, she had one final wish.

She wanted to see her parents one last time—even if they despised her.

Stumbling to the roadside, she waved for a cab. One finally stopped, but the driver took one look at her scarred, pallid face and sped off.

Again and again, cars halted, then left her behind.

Gritting her teeth, she trudged forward, following the textured pavement beneath her feet.

Then, snow began to fall.

The cold seeped into her skin, burrowing deep into her heart.

Evelyn pulled a photograph from her pocket, pressing a tender kiss to its surface.

My baby.

My precious little one.

Mommy won’t be cold with you here.

"Look, a celebrity!" An excited voice rang out behind her.

A celebrity?

How lively it must be. A shame she couldn’t see it.

A bitter smile touched her lips—just as someone barreled into her shoulder.

She staggered, barely catching herself, but the photo slipped from her grasp.

Panic seized her. Dropping to her knees, she frantically swept her hands across the icy ground, dirt caking beneath her nails.

It was gone.

Tears spilled down her cheeks.

At that moment, Alexander drove past.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed the crowd gathered nearby. He barely spared them a glance—until he saw her.

Evelyn, on her hands and knees, searching desperately for something.

Her face was deathly pale, her expression raw with despair. The vibrant woman he once knew was gone, replaced by this hollow shell.

And when her tears fell, something inside him burned.