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Second: signed asset waiver-she had taken nothing.
Third: hospital lab results stating clearly,the child Isabella lost was never Arthur’s legacy. Chromosomal
abnormalities meant it was a nonviable fetus from the start.
“For years she endured pain to manage the company and keep you in line because I asked her to! Because she feared you’d follow your father’s path with the wrong crowd!” Beatrice gasped through sobs, jabbing a
finger at him.
“And you chose some irrelevant woman over her!”
Frederick sank to his knees, picking up a worn diary. His hands shook as he flipped through it.
The handwriting grew messier toward the end; ink blotted in places, as if dampened.
One entry read: Smashed his watch today. Hatred filled his eyes. Grandmother says I did right, but I cried all
night.
Further on: Frederick worked past midnight. Waited three hours by the door. He asked if I was checking up
on him. I said no,just wanted to eat together. He said I disgusted him.
Then: Diagnosis: stage IV. Three months. Wanted to tell Frederick, but Grandmother forbade it. Didn’t want him staying out of guilt. Neither do I. Let him be free. No burden.
The final page, scrawled unevenly: Called Frederick tonight. He said I’m acting. True-three years of pretense. But this pain is real. Burning up, can’t lift my arm. Hope he never knows I called. Too ashamed.
The diary fell from his grasp.
Beatrice leaned against the wall, tears streaking her face. “Her fever hit 104°F those last days. Lying alone in
that apartment. When I found her, she was on the floor, phone still in hand-your call log on the screen.”
“Enough…” Frederick choked out, covering his face.
“No, it’s not enough! Did you deserve her?” She pointed a trembling finger. “Before losing consciousness, she
begged me not to tell you the truth. Said a man like you shouldn’t carry guilt for someone like her. Frederick,she protected you till her last breath!”
His strength drained completely.
He knelt by the gurney, reaching to touch my cheek, then recoiled as if burned.
“Evelyn…” His voice fractured. “Get up. Yell at me. Anything.”
Silence answered.
He bent forward, tears falling onto my lifeless hand. “You were always making scenes-smashing things, calling, checking on me. Do it one more time. I swear I’ll never complain again.”
Beatrice turned away, shoulders shaking.
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Frederick gripped my hand, the ring digging into his palm. “Why didn’t you take it off? You were dying, why keep it on?” He tried sliding it back on, but my fingers were too thin; it slipped off effortlessly.
Clutching the band, he broke completely.
“Evelyn, say something! You hated when I was with Isabella-I’ll cut her off right now! Speak to me!”
An attendant stepped closer, voice low. “Sir, the body must be prepared for cremation soon.”
“Shut up!” Frederick roared, eyes blazing red. He stared at me as if will alone could reverse death.
“Evelyn, stop pretending. Get up and I’ll believe you. I’ll never accuse you of acting again.”
Beatrice grabbed his collar, hauling him upright. “She owes you nothing! You owe her everything!”
He staggered, gaze locked on the gurney, a guttural sound tearing from his throat. Then he turned and bolted,
shoving doors open, stumbling into daylight.
Sunlight stabbed his eyes.
Isabella stood near the entrance, holding a thermal lunchbox. “Frederick, I heard you were here.”
He walked straight past her without a glance.
She faltered, chasing after him. “Frederick, what’s wrong? Is Evelyn?”
“Don’t say her name.” He flung her hand off, voice gravel-rough. “Don’t come near me again.”
Her face paled. “What does that mean?”
He didn’t answer.
Inside his car, he slammed the accelerator. The engine screamed; scenery blurred past.
All he could see was Evelyn’s face,once bright with forced smiles, in the end reduced to bone and shadow.
Chapter 5
