Chapter 387
Evelyn's gaze sharpened with intrigue as she studied Eleanor, whose tear-stained face reflected pure devastation. "What do you mean, Mrs. Kingsley?"
"Victoria confessed everything to us," William sighed, his forehead creasing with tension. "I can't believe she's been impersonating our daughter all these years."
Evelyn felt a wave of confusion crash over her.
Why would Victoria voluntarily admit she wasn't the true Montgomery heiress?
Such a confession offered her no advantage whatsoever.
"I never would have discovered the truth if I hadn't visited her at the detention center," Eleanor continued with a bitter laugh.
The realization struck Evelyn - Eleanor had accidentally overheard a conversation never meant for her ears.
Lies always unraveled eventually. The only variable was time.
The irony tasted bitter, and Eleanor's hollow chuckle confirmed she felt the same.
"For three years, we poured all our love into her, believing she was our long-lost daughter. Money meant nothing - we spent millions without hesitation if it brought her happiness."
The astronomical figure didn't surprise Evelyn in the slightest.
Victoria had always been insatiable for wealth and status. While most funds lined her own pockets, a portion undoubtedly trickled down to Margaret and Richard.
"The money is irrelevant," Eleanor choked out. "What destroys me is how she manipulated our love. Every smile, every word these past three years was calculated. The only thing genuine about her was her greed for our fortune."
Finally, the scales had fallen from Eleanor's eyes.
Yet the revelation came far too late.
Evelyn observed silently, finding the entire situation tragically absurd.
'Dearest mother and father, when you embraced Victoria as your daughter, you excused every immoral act, every transgression. Your blind devotion mirrored Alexander's at the beginning. You stabbed me without hesitation, never questioning who truly deserved your protection.'
'Wounds may heal, but scars remain forever.'
"Miss Prescott." Eleanor suddenly seized Evelyn's hand, her expression desperate.
Evelyn refocused on Eleanor's haunted eyes.
"That day at the hospital - you mentioned overhearing Margaret Dawson say my daughter died three years ago. Please, think carefully - could you have misheard? My daughter can't be dead. She just can't!"
Eleanor's grip turned vice-like.
Hope flickered in her bloodshot eyes, begging for reassurance.
Evelyn's carefully constructed composure faltered momentarily as she met that pleading gaze.
"Miss Prescott?" Eleanor pressed urgently.
Evelyn lifted her eyes to meet William's equally beseeching stare. Her pulse steadied as a faint, practiced smile curved her lips.
"The door was thick - I couldn't hear clearly. Given Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery's renowned philanthropy, I'm certain your daughter thrives somewhere, blessed by your good deeds."
Eleanor sagged with relief while William shot Evelyn a look of profound gratitude.
"William, did you hear? Our daughter lives! Now we just need to find her." Eleanor turned to her husband with renewed energy.
Evelyn observed their elation with detached calmness, her own heart untouched by their joy.
She suddenly noticed Alexander's unusual silence since Eleanor's revelation.
Turning, she found him statue-still, his expression frozen like marble. Only the storm in his eyes betrayed any emotion. Without that telltale turbulence, one might think him petrified.
But why such a reaction?
Eleanor's emotional outburst had reopened her hand wound. William quickly ushered her toward their car, but not before approaching Evelyn privately.
"Thank you," he murmured sincerely. "Not just for the blood donation, but for giving Eleanor hope today." His eyes shone with unspoken gratitude for her merciful lie.