Chapter 413

Eleanor's words made Alexander and William exchange startled glances.

Though Vivian had been calling Henry Whitmore her grandfather, everyone knew he wasn't truly related to her by blood.

So how did Eleanor recognize that name?

"Eleanor, are you certain you've seen this name at home?" William asked, bewildered.

He mentally ran through every servant, relative, and acquaintance—none matched the name Henry Whitmore.

Eleanor nodded firmly. "With Beatrice!"

"Beatrice?" Alexander's brow furrowed slightly.

"She's our housekeeper. She started working for us in her twenties—that was thirty-two years ago." Eleanor's voice grew more urgent as a realization dawned on her. "I saw Henry Whitmore's name among her things."

"Beatrice's full name is Beatrice Caldwell, but..." Eleanor's breath hitched as the implication struck her.

"William, could it be...? We need to question her immediately!"

She grabbed William's arm, pulling him toward the door.

Alexander's gaze lingered on the tombstone before shifting to the retreating couple. The puzzle pieces in his mind were finally clicking into place.

He looked up at the overcast sky, where a single golden ray pierced through the gloom.

Perhaps fate hadn't abandoned him after all.

The drive back was tense for Eleanor and William.

The moment they stepped into the manor, Beatrice emerged from the kitchen with a steaming bowl of soup.

"Madam, perfect timing. I made this specially for you." Beatrice's expression turned remorseful. "I'm so sorry for hurting you before—all because of that wretched woman."

Eleanor bit back her immediate interrogation. Seeing Beatrice's apparent sincerity, she forced a calm smile.

"I know you didn't mean it. But whether it's Vivian or Evelyn, neither is the villain you believe them to be."

Beatrice's eyes darkened. "Evelyn? That scheming viper murdered Sophia! She should've rotted in prison years ago!"

The venom in her voice made William and Eleanor stiffen. They couldn't tolerate anyone slandering their precious daughter.

Especially when Evelyn was completely innocent.

Sophia's death three years ago had been conclusively proven unrelated to Evelyn.

Swallowing her anger, Eleanor kept her tone light. "Beatrice, you truly loved Sophia. Sometimes I think you cared for her more than I did."

At the mention of Sophia, Beatrice's face softened with maternal pride.

"I raised Miss Sophia from infancy. Of course I adored such a beautiful, clever girl." Her expression then twisted violently. "Until that jealous witch Evelyn stabbed her to death!"

Watching Beatrice's face contort with hatred, Eleanor and William shared a knowing look.

"The person responsible for Sophia's death will face justice," Eleanor said soothingly, patting Beatrice's hand. "You've been under strain. Perhaps a visit home would help? Isn't your father there—Henry Whitmore, if I recall?"

The name made Beatrice freeze. Panic flashed across her face.

"Th-that's not necessary, Madam! I'm perfectly fine!" She fumbled with her apron, backing away hastily. "Please enjoy the soup. I have chores to attend to."

Eleanor's eyes blazed with excitement as Beatrice fled. William squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"Her reaction confirms it. She's hiding something."

"I can't wait another second!" Eleanor's voice trembled. "William, what if our daughter suffered because of—"

William's jaw tightened. Suddenly, he pulled out his phone and dialed Alexander.

Alexander had just returned to Blackwood Enterprises when the call came through. He listened with growing interest to William's request.

At that exact moment, Evelyn walked into his office, carrying his lunch.