Chapter 427

Liam couldn't bring himself to watch Evelyn leave. Maybe the pain wouldn't cut so deep if he didn't witness her departure.

Rosalind, gripping the steering wheel, glanced nervously at Evelyn's tear-streaked face in the rearview mirror.

When they arrived at Wright Manor, Evelyn's footsteps echoed heavily through the grand foyer. Archibald and Margaret sat waiting in the parlor, their welcoming smiles crumbling at the sight of her swollen eyes.

"Did Liam hurt you?" Archibald's voice boomed with barely contained fury.

Margaret's hands trembled as she reached for Evelyn. "What's wrong with that boy? Where is he? I'll have his head for this!"

Evelyn caught their hands, her own shaking. "No, this isn't about Liam."

Margaret gently cupped Evelyn's face, her own eyes welling up. "Then why these tears, darling? Did you not sleep well?"

Evelyn guided them back to the sofa before sinking to her knees. Both grandparents gasped, reaching to pull her up, but she resisted. "Please, let me say this."

"Speak, child! There's no need for this," Margaret pleaded.

Evelyn remained kneeling, guilt twisting her features. "Grandfather, Grandmother... I won't be able to care for you as I should from now on."

Margaret's face drained of color. "What do you mean?" Her voice cracked as she clutched Evelyn's hands.

Archibald's expression darkened with understanding before she even spoke.

Evelyn stared at the Persian rug beneath her knees. "I'm returning to Solterra to resume my old position. For ten months, I won't be able to contact anyone. Only around Christmas... for a brief window."

Margaret's tears fell freely now. "Why, Evelyn? We have everything here! The family legacy, the estate - why choose that prison of a job?"

"I'm so sorry," Evelyn whispered, fresh tears spilling. "I can't explain."

"Stay," Margaret commanded. "Let your grandfather handle whatever mess is in Solterra. We're not getting any younger, child."

Evelyn shook her head violently. "Some things can't be fixed with money or influence."

"When do you leave?" Archibald asked quietly.

Margaret whirled on him. "You old fool! Aren't you going to stop her?"

"She has her own path!" Archibald roared back.

Margaret collapsed against the sofa, her sobs shaking her frail frame. Evelyn knelt motionless, tears carving silent paths down her cheeks, the weight of her decision pressing her deeper into the ornate carpet.

The grandfather clock ticked loudly in the heavy silence, each second marking the irreversible countdown to her departure.