Chapter 1839
“The truth about what happened back then is still unclear. Carola said she was framed, and I’ve lost my memory, remember? I don’t know what I believed before. I also don’t know what I discovered at that time.”
Tamara trembled with fury.
“You’ve lost your mind! You’d take her word for it just like that? You—”
“Enough!” Elwood cut her off again, firm and final.
“I’m not a child anymore. Let me deal with my own affairs, okay?”
Silence fell. Tamara could only stare at him, speechless, her anger swallowed whole by his defiance.
Elwood exhaled quietly, then turned and ascended the stairs without another word.
Zaria stood off to the side, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she watched him go. Her thoughts twisted in conflicted silence. Carola’s claim—being framed—had struck her as genuine. There had been something in her eyes that hadn’t looked like a lie. But if she really was telling the truth, then who had set her up back then?
A face flickered in Zaria’s mind—Tasha.
Tasha was always obsessed with Elwood. Jealous of Carola. Back then, Carola had been the woman standing between Tasha and everything she wanted.
Zaria knew that to win over Elwood, Tasha had even gone to great lengths to dig into her past and find things to use as leverage against her.
Someone like that wouldn’t have let her rival in love off easily.
Almost certainly, Carola’s setup could be traced back to one name—Tasha. Zaria had little doubt about it.
The timeline alone—over two decades—had given Tasha more than enough time to erase every piece of evidence. Digging up the truth now would be like chasing shadows in the fog.
Still, it all hinged on whether Elwood could unearth something—anything.
A name could be powerful. Planted right, it could stir memories and unlock buried truths. And so, a quiet plan took shape in Zaria’s mind. She could give her father something to investigate—Tasha.
The corner of her mouth lifted in a faint smile at the thought.
In the reception area of the Triumph Consortium.
“Mr. Clark, may I ask why you called me here?” A middle-aged woman sitting across from Lucas spoke in a hushed voice, her fingers nervously twisting the strap of her handbag.
Lucas studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable, before leaning back slightly and asking, “Were you the one who delivered Holley’s baby years ago?”
The woman blinked at the name, brows drawing together in confusion.
“Holley?”
A beat passed. Then she said cautiously, “I used to work as an obstetrician at the city maternity hospital, but… I’ve delivered so many babies over the years, I can’t place the name. Maybe if you had more details…”
She had a pretty good memory, but just hearing a single name without more context was indeed difficult to jog her memory.
Lucas nodded slightly at Gordon, who quickly understood his meaning and pulled out his phone.
After a few swipes, he turned the screen to the woman.
.
.
.