“He’s lying in there right now, and you’re talking about giving him his freedom?” Miranda let out a bitterugh, her eyes red with emotion. “I just watched the ident footage. If Evander hadn’t jerked the wheel toward your side, the driver’s seat wouldn’t have taken the worst of it! When people are in danger, their instincts kick in to protect themselves. But he–he chose to protect you. Other than a parent, iwho /ielse in this world would do something like that?”

“Charlotte, if you had a shred of a heart, you wouldn’t be saying such cold things at a time like this!”

Charlotte unconsciously clenched her fists.

Suddenly, the light above the emergency room switched from red to

green.

As Director Hale and Dean Chase stepped out, Miranda rushed over, her voice tight with worry. “How’s my son?”

“Mrs. Howard, you can rest easy,” Dean Chase said kindly. “Fortunately, the ss didn’t reach any major arteries. The surgery went very well–he’ll just need some time to recover.”

Miranda finally let out a shaky breath of relief.

Jensen smiled and offered his congrattions. “Told you, Miranda. Evander’s always been blessed–he’d pull through.”

The rest of the Howard family filed in to visit Evander, but Charlotte remained in the hall.

In the end, she turned and walked away.

She stepped out of the hospital, and two figures hurried toward her through the parking lot.

“Lottie!”

She looked up as Wesley and Julian came into focus. Wesley stopped in

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13:03

front of her, concern etched across his face. “Are you alright?”

She shook her head and forced a hoarse reply. “I’m fine…”

“I heard you and Evander were in an ident. Did you–besides that cut on your forehead, are you hurt anywhere else?”

“Wesley, it’s just a scratch. Nothing serious.”

Hearing this, Wesley’s tense shoulders finally rxed.

Wesley insisted on taking her back to her hotel. The memory of the crash clung to her, leaving her anxious the whole ride.

Unwilling to leave her alone, Wesley escorted her all the way upstairs.

At the door to her room, he paused, then asked suddenly, “Lottie, iyour /iblood type is Rh–negative, isn’t it?”

Charlotte froze, turning to look at him. “How…how did you know?”

“I knew it. You’re my sister, aren’t you?” Wesley’s voice was steady with conviction. “That day you asked me and my mother about our blood types, I thought it was odd. Later, I realized there might be something off with Loretta–so I looked into it. Her blood type doesn’t match, and the old test results were tampered with.”

Rh–negative blood, the adopted daughter of the Sterling family, and a face so simr to his mother’s–maybe there are lookalikes in the world, but that rare blood type isn’t something you just find twice.

“I…had someone check Loretta’s blood type, too. I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid…”

“You were afraid I wouldn’t believe you.”

She stayed silent.

Wesley lowered his gaze. “Honestly, if I hadn’t started questioning things,

I wouldn’t have doubted the test results. They made it really hard to believe otherwise,”

“But who tampered with the results?”

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“It was a rtive from my mother’s side. He’s worked as a bodyguard for us for years–I never imagined he’d do something like that. I’m already digging into who was really behind it.”

As he spoke, Wesley ced a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Lottie, Dad doesn’t believe Loretta is his daughter anymore, either. But for the sake of that girl’s reputation, he said we need to handle things carefully first. Once it’s settled, he wants me to bring you home.”

Charlotte smiled faintly. “Alright.”

The next day, Loretta sat in her room, waiting for news. It was the first time she’d ever done something like this, and she’d barely slept all night, nerves stretched thin.

A text from an unknown number shed onto her phone: [It’s taken care of.]

bChapter /bb347 /b