Chapter 361

The night was heavy with silence. Evelyn Roland stood outside the guest bedroom door, a bowl of warm porridge in her hands. Her knuckles rapped lightly against the wood.

No response.

She knocked again, three firm strikes.

A sliver of light finally seeped through the crack beneath the door.

Pushing it open, she found only Sebastian Valdemar inside. Theodore Ashcroft had slipped away at some point.

When Sebastian lifted his gaze, Evelyn's breath caught. His usually playful eyes were bloodshot, his jaw shadowed with stubble. He looked hollow, as if the life had been drained from him.

"Eat something," she murmured, setting the porcelain bowl on the nightstand.

He remained motionless, a statue carved from grief.

The acrid scent of tobacco stung her throat. Covering her mouth, she coughed lightly. The ashtray overflowed with cigarette butts—a tiny graveyard of spent sorrows.

Without a word, she crossed to the window and pushed it open. The night air rushed in, carrying the crispness of dew.

"You know now." His voice was raw, barely recognizable.

"Yes." She saw no point in lying.

Had fate not intervened, this secret might have stayed buried forever.

Sebastian's lips twisted into something that wasn't quite a smile. It was uglier than tears.

"Don't force it," she said before she could stop herself.

His shoulders stiffened.

"Sorry." The word scraped from his throat like gravel.

Silence thickened between them. Then, abruptly, he spoke again: "Want to hear a story?"

Evelyn blinked.

"About... my parents."

She noticed his trembling fingers.

"Okay."

They moved to the balcony. Sebastian stared at the distant city lights, his eyes glistening. Moonlight carved harsh lines into his profile.

"It was my seventh birthday," he began softly. "A stormy night. They insisted on driving home."

Evelyn's fingers curled into her sleeves.

"The police said both vehicles were crushed beyond recognition." A hollow laugh escaped him. "Funny, isn't it? Living, breathing people... reduced to weight measurements."

"The driver who hit them—"

"Died on impact." Darkness flickered in Sebastian's gaze. "Everything pointed to an accident."

The wind tousled his hair.

"But I never believed that." He turned to face her, embers of defiance burning in his eyes. "Just like you digging into the Rolands' secrets—some truths... you have to unearth them yourself."

Evelyn's breath hitched. This version of Sebastian reminded her of a wounded beast, battered but refusing to surrender.

Suddenly, she remembered that rainy night when he'd approached her under his black umbrella. Now she understood—beneath those sheltering ribs had always lain wounds far deeper than she'd imagined.