After being “escorted” back to the villa, suppressing my hurt and anger, I slipped silently into Joan's room. I need more evidence to rip away their disguise with my own hands.
As my heart pounded, I held my breath and frantically searched through the room. Finally, at the very bottom of a drawer, I found a document with the logo of a private hospital.
I swiftly pulled it out, flipped to the diagnosis page, and snapped a clear photo of the critical conclusion with my phone. [Aplastic Anemia (Mild, Drug-Controllable), No Immediate Indication for Transplant.]
As expected, Joan’s illness was nothing but an excuse.
When I was about to close the drawer and leave after I had the evidence, my fingertips accidentally brushed against a slightly worn manila envelope beneath the document. It was written in my grandmother’s handwriting.
My heart skipped a beat. I had grown up by my grandmother’s side; she was the person who had been the kindest to me besides my mother. But why would my grandmother’s letter be here with Joan?
My hands trembled as I tore open the envelope, and I quickly scanned the letter.
[Grandma's heart condition has been getting worse lately. I miss you terribly and can't get in touch with you. I'm afraid your father will stop me …]
"Victoria? What are you doing in my room?” Joan's sharp voice rang out from the doorway.
“Victoria.” Thomas strode in, his voice strained. "Where are your manners? Who gave you the nerve to break into Joan's room? What's that in your hand?"
I instinctively hid the letter behind my back. “This is a letter from my grandmother. What have you done to her?”
Joan's voice filled with hurt. “I truly didn't know it was your grandmother's letter. It's all my fault. I'll move out immediately and never make you angry again.”
I trembled with anger and raised the letter paper, “How many things have you hidden from me? How is my grandmother doing now? I have to see her!”
Thomas's eyes flickered subtly. He didn't try to snatch the letter back, but instead scoffed, "See her? Victoria, your priority right now is to recover. Unless ... do you want some accident to happen to Grandma during her peaceful recovery, something that no one wants to see?"
I stared into his icy eyes, then at Joan's smug gaze behind him. I understood that any resistance or questioning at this point would be useless and would only put Grandma in greater danger.
I lowered my hand that was still clutching the letter. “What do you want?”
Thomas seemed satisfied with my compliance. Pointing toward the villa's entrance, he commanded in a tone brooking no argument, “You trespassed and frightened Joan. Your punishment is to kneel at the front gate until she forgives you.”
Two bodyguards immediately stepped forward, seized my arms, and dragged me to the villa entrance, where they forced me to kneel.
At this time, it was time for residents of the upscale neighborhood to return from strolls or head to dinner parties.
Luxury cars slowed as they passed by, and in the distance, people stopped, pointing and whispering.
“Isn't that Mrs. Crawford? Why is she kneeling at her own doorsteps?”
“Tsk, I heard she caused a scene at the auction. This is getting interesting. The rightful wife is kneeling outside while the other one walks right in.”
“Poor thing. I heard she lost the baby too...”
I bit my lower lip hard, forcing myself not to listen to the whispers, barely holding back the tremors in my body.
Then, a voice I knew all too well called out from afar.
“Oh dear, Victoria, why are you kneeling on the ground? Get up, get up! What kind of behavior is this?”
