Chapter 113

Evelyn dialed her mother's number with trembling fingers.

The line rang endlessly. Just as she was about to give up, the call connected. A cacophony of slot machines and raucous laughter assaulted her ears.

"Harder! Faster! Goddamn it, I'm coming!"

"Hello? Who's this?" Dorothy's voice cut through the noise.

Evelyn flinched at her mother's crude language. She swallowed hard before responding. "It's me, Mom. Evelyn."

Dorothy Simmons' tone instantly transformed into sickly sweetness. "Oh, my precious girl! How are you? Is that old geezer treating you well?"

Evelyn hadn't disclosed her marriage to Liam. As far as her family knew, she was still working as a caretaker at Shadowmire.

"We're fine," Evelyn murmured.

Dorothy launched into a dramatic sigh. "I'm not doing well at all, darling. My blood pressure's through the roof, sugar levels are crazy high. And this damn rheumatism - I can't sleep through the night anymore."

"That worthless drunk you call a father keeps beating me when he staggers home. Oh Evelyn, life's so hard for me here."

"Your idiot brother's disappeared with mountains of debt. Hasn't given me a single penny to survive."

"I can't even get out of bed to work with this pain, Evelyn. Your father's no help either, always drowning in liquor. I don't know how much longer I can take this!"

"Oh, Evelyn—"

Evelyn couldn't stomach another word. "I understand, Mom. I'll wire you some money."

"Bless you, sweetheart!" Dorothy's voice turned gleeful.

"There's something else, Mom."

"No need to be shy. What is it?"

"Could you come to the hospital with me?"

Dorothy's voice sharpened. "Are you sick?"

"Mom, I—" Evelyn's throat closed up.

Dorothy had always praised Evelyn for being obedient and kind. She doted on Evelyn precisely because of these qualities.

If Evelyn mentioned the DNA test outright, Dorothy would never agree. After all, why would she let go of such a dutiful daughter who funded her lifestyle?

Evelyn quickly changed tactics. "Mom, the doctors think I might have a hereditary immune disorder. They need to run genetic tests on us to confirm."

"My poor baby! How did this happen?" Dorothy burst into theatrical sobs.

Her distress seemed genuine. Whether she mourned for Evelyn's health or her potential loss of income remained unclear.

"I'll text you the hospital address. We can schedule an appointment."

"Of course, darling. Get treated immediately!" Dorothy urged with sudden enthusiasm.

"I will, Mom. Goodbye." Evelyn ended the call.

Meanwhile, Dorothy retreated to a shadowy corner of the casino. She perched on a stool, lighting a cigarette with practiced fingers.

A memory surfaced - that wealthy man who paid handsomely for information about Evelyn.

Salivating at the thought of another payout, Dorothy scrolled through her contacts.

"Dr. Whitmore? Is that you?"

"Speaking," Julian answered.

"My daughter Evelyn just called—"

Dorothy proceeded to relay every detail of Evelyn's situation, her voice barely audible over the casino's din.