Chapter 475

The crowd began to gather, drawn by the commotion.

The car came speeding toward her, and for a terrifying moment, Evelyn thought she wouldn’t escape in time.

Then, in a blur of motion, strong arms yanked her back.

A surge of safety—something she hadn’t felt in years—flooded through her.

Before she could even process what had happened, firm hands gripped her shoulders.

"Evelyn, are you hurt?"

The voice was familiar, laced with concern.

Evelyn blinked, realizing it was Eleanor who had pulled her to safety.

Eleanor’s elegant face was tight with worry, her eyes scanning Evelyn’s body for injuries.

For a few seconds, Evelyn just stared, stunned. Then she managed, "I’m fine. Thank you, Mrs. Kingsley."

At the formal address, Eleanor’s eyes reddened. But she said nothing.

She had lost the right to be called "Mother" long ago.

Evelyn turned toward the car that had nearly hit her. It had crashed into a nearby tree, the front crumpled. The driver stood unharmed, already on the phone arranging a tow.

"That was too close! I almost hit that woman!"

"Thank God that elegant lady saved her. They must be mother and daughter—look how alike they are."

"A mother’s instinct is to protect her child, no matter what. See how she’s crying?"

Evelyn had been about to walk away, but the murmurs of the crowd made her pause.

She glanced back.

Eleanor stood there, tears streaming silently down her face, her emotions barely contained.

Then Evelyn noticed it—the deep gash on Eleanor’s right calf, blood trickling down her leg.

She strode back, frowning. "You’re hurt. Why didn’t you say anything?"

Eleanor shook her head, still crying. "As long as you’re safe."

Evelyn exhaled sharply. "Did you come alone?"

Eleanor met her gaze and nodded.

"Wait here," Evelyn said. "I’ll bring the car."

She walked off quickly, leaving Eleanor standing there, overwhelmed.

A few minutes later, Evelyn pulled up in front of her.

She got out, opened the passenger door, and helped Eleanor inside before driving straight to the hospital.

The entire ride, Eleanor barely glanced at her wound. Her eyes stayed fixed on Evelyn’s profile—her daughter’s face, so much like her own.

She wanted to speak, but she didn’t dare.

At the hospital, Evelyn handled everything—registering, guiding Eleanor to the doctor, waiting as her wound was treated.

When it was done, she helped Eleanor to the entrance before letting go.

"Call him to pick you up. I have things to do."

Eleanor knew she meant William. Her heart ached, but she forced a smile. "I don’t want to bother him. I’ll manage."

Evelyn hesitated. Then, flatly, "Fine. I’m leaving."

"Evelyn—"

But Evelyn was already walking away.

Eleanor wiped her tears, limping toward the exit alone.

From her car, Evelyn watched her go, fingers tightening around the steering wheel.

She didn’t know why it still hurt.

Alexander, Eleanor, William—they were the people she had loved most.

And they were the ones who had broken her the most.