Chapter 143

Rosalind's question caught Evelyn completely off guard.

Evelyn watched as Rosalind closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the armrests of her chair. The air between them grew heavy with unspoken tension.

"If I'm not truly Evelyn Carter," Rosalind continued in a measured tone, "then the Carters aren't my real family. By that same logic, the Blackwoods aren't truly my in-laws either."

"Rosalind, you—" Evelyn's voice caught in her throat as she studied the woman before her. The usual hesitation and self-doubt that normally clouded Rosalind's features had vanished, replaced by a steely determination that seemed to radiate from within.

Despite the amnesia that had stolen her past, Rosalind's transformation was undeniable. She sat straighter, her gaze sharper, as if shedding an invisible weight she'd carried for years.

Rosalind reached across the table and grasped Evelyn's hand with surprising strength. "Evelyn," she said softly, "I need you to keep this between us."

The intensity in Rosalind's eyes left Evelyn breathless. She found herself nodding before she'd even processed the request. "Of course."

"There's something else," Rosalind continued, lowering her voice. "Ever since I lost my memory, I've felt... manipulated. Like invisible strings are pulling me in directions I don't understand. I need to uncover the truth, which means I can't afford any mistakes."

Evelyn's pulse quickened. "Do you think the Carters are involved?"

Rosalind hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. "They don't have that kind of power... but I can't completely rule them out either."

"What about the Blackwoods?" Evelyn ventured.

A dry chuckle escaped Rosalind's lips. "What possible motive would they have?"

Evelyn had to concede the point.

Rosalind's expression grew more serious. "The first DNA test was supervised by police. The second had military observers from Aldenria present. If both could be falsified..." She let the implication hang in the air.

Evelyn squeezed Rosalind's hand in reassurance. "Listen to me. Whether you're Rosalind Fairchild or someone else entirely, you're my friend. Whatever you need, I'm here."

Rosalind pulled her into a tight embrace. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Their dinner lasted well into the evening. It wasn't until nearly eight when Evelyn finally returned to Blackwood Manor. The grand estate blazed with light, its crystal chandeliers casting intricate patterns across the marble floors.

Three figures occupied the sitting room. Evelyn's gaze went immediately to Liam, who lounged on the sofa with uncharacteristic casualness, one arm draped along the backrest, his long legs stretched out before him.

The moment Liam spotted Evelyn, his relaxed posture stiffened. A shadow crossed his features, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. He'd been home for two days now, and Evelyn had expertly avoided him—holing up in the library or inventing errands that took her out of the house.

Eleanor's gentle voice broke the tension. "Evelyn, darling! Have you eaten?"

"Yes, thank you," Evelyn replied smoothly, crossing to greet her mother-in-law. "I had dinner with a friend."

Beatrice Thornton sat stiffly beside Eleanor, her arms crossed. When she spoke, her voice dripped with smug satisfaction. "Do you know where I've been these past few days, Evelyn?"

Evelyn forced a polite smile. "Eleanor mentioned you traveled to Solterra."

"Not for pleasure," Beatrice snapped. "I went to find Ms. Grayson. And I told her all about your little charade. She's furious—planning to sue you for identity theft."

Liam's entire body went rigid, his eyes darkening as they fixed on Beatrice.

Eleanor gasped. "Beatrice! Have you lost your mind? Why would you conspire with outsiders against family?"

"Family?" Beatrice spat the word like a curse. "This impostor manipulated my brother into marriage with her schemes. Then she had the audacity to claim she's some famous artist—when everyone knows she's nothing but a—"

"That's enough!" Liam's voice cracked like a whip, cutting Beatrice off mid-sentence.

Eleanor looked ready to argue further, but one glance at Liam's thunderous expression silenced her. The air in the room grew thick with unspoken accusations and mounting tension.