CHAPTER 495: CHAPTER 495: CONNECTED

Once the call ended, the car fell silent, the soft clicking of the double flash sounding incredibly clear.

It was like the heartbeat of Evelyn Clayton.

Yara Reagan spoke timidly, her expression dazed: "If, and I’m just saying if... back then it was Summer Monroe who instructed John Jacobs to kidnap you, then is Lars Alden’s existence also known to her? She—"

Evelyn Clayton took a deep breath and started the car.

"This matter can’t be rushed," Evelyn said slowly, as she swiftly sorted through the chaotic thoughts in her head, "It seems that I must attend Harrison Grant’s birthday party tomorrow."

Yara Reagan shivered slightly: "Exactly! It’s just the right occasion to probe Harrison Grant’s true motives!"

After driving home, Evelyn Clayton went to the storage room, and from the highest shelf, she took down a box that was covered in dust.

The box contained all sorts of things.

There were family photos from when her father was still alive, toys from Evelyn’s childhood, and a few ornaments salvaged from the old house.

Evelyn rummaged through, and finally discovered a very old phone book at the bottom of the box.

She tidied up the box and put it back, then took the phone book to the living room.

The living room lights were bright, but Evelyn felt it wasn’t enough because her heart was surrounded by darkness.

The dense fog of the night made everything seem unclear.

Opening the old phone book, the yellowed pages indicated its age, the faint mildew smell invaded Evelyn’s nostrils, evoking memories of the past.

Back then, she was not yet ten years old; after her father’s car accident, Charlotte Sterling was despondent, drinking every day, even the police inquiries were handled by Evelyn.

The young Evelyn matured overnight due to her father’s early demise.

With a defeated expression and a trembling voice, she forced herself to recall the various anomalies before her father’s death.

"Three days ago, Dad went out for dinner, I was there too, there were several uncles in the private room, among them one particularly tall, stern-faced..."

The scene from her childhood, when she reported to the police, unfolded like a movie in Evelyn’s mind.

A particularly tall, stern-faced...uncle?

Evelyn’s hands trembled as she flipped through the phone book, finally stopping at a particular page.

That was the page with the name of the police squad leader who came to her house years ago.

The time had been so long that Evelyn almost couldn’t remember what expression the policeman with the most stars on his shoulders and appeared the most authoritative had after she spoke those words.

But she remembered, after she spoke, the policeman remained silent for a long time, then tore a sheet of paper and wrote down his phone number.

"Little girl, if you remember what that person looks like or his surname, call this number to contact me. But you must promise the police uncle, you can’t tell anyone about this, only tell me, understand?"

Later, Evelyn couldn’t recall the name of the cold-faced uncle she met the day she went dining with her father, but she remembered there was a mole at the corner of his mouth.

When she wanted to call that policeman, her mother rushed in and took away the phone book.

Seeing the innocent handwriting in the phone book, Evelyn seemed to return to that night when she copied down the number.

She cried while filled with hope.

The police uncle will definitely find out how Dad died, young Evelyn thought.

And now, as the calm and composed adult Evelyn, with red-rimmed eyes just like on that night many years ago, she dialed the number once more.

After a while, the phone buzzed.

That call which was never made many years ago, connected today.