Chapter 382

Rosalind chuckled and tapped Lillian lightly on the forehead.

"Your brother adores you. He pulled strings to get you into that elite prep school. Trust me, he won't let you become some lonely cat lady living in his basement forever."

Lillian burst into giggles, her face lighting up with amusement.

The door swung open suddenly. Everett walked in.

Lillian's eyes brightened instantly. "Everett!"

Rosalind stood abruptly. "Did the lab results come back?!"

Everett's pale eyes were rimmed red. She nodded silently. "I have them."

Lillian's smile faded. "Is Mom okay? Is she really sick?"

Everett glanced at Margaret lying motionless on the bed but remained silent.

Rosalind sensed the tension and quickly intervened. "Lillian, come with me outside for a sec. We need to talk."

Without hesitation, Lillian agreed. "Okay."

Rosalind guided the younger girl out of the room.

Silence descended. Only Everett and Margaret remained. Everett sank into the chair beside the bed, studying Margaret's face.

Margaret's faded dress had been washed too many times, but it was neatly pressed. Her silver-streaked hair was pinned back carefully. Her expression held a quiet dignity.

Everett thought of her own mother - same age, currently vacationing in Santorina. Her mother owned more designer dresses than she could count, always saying beauty was every woman's birthright.

Margaret probably once cared about such things too. Life had other plans.

"You saw the results?" Margaret's voice was barely above a whisper.

Everett nodded. "Stage four cancer, Mrs. Sinclair."

Margaret smiled faintly. "I know. Four years ago, I collapsed at home. The hospital tests showed abnormalities then."

"Why refuse treatment? Early intervention could've changed everything."

"Perhaps," Margaret sighed. "The doctors said $200,000 might buy me a few more years. But back then, Lillian was just a child. Everett wasn't even eighteen."

"Everett suffered so much. Before his father died, that man left $400,000 in debts. I couldn't help - blind as I was. Everett started skipping school to work odd jobs. Just a boy, but he shaved his head, got tattoos, built this tough-guy persona. Had to make people think twice before messing with us."

Margaret reached out. Everett instinctively took her hand. The skin felt like sandpaper, calluses thick enough to prick.

Margaret chuckled. "Is Everett always so cold with you?"

Everett nodded. "With everyone. Never smiles."

"He wasn't always like that," Margaret's voice softened. "Used to laugh constantly. Had the most beautiful smile. After his father died... people talked. We were the drug dealer's family. Everett stopped smiling to protect us."

Everett's chest ached. She'd grown up privileged, her biggest problem being Julian's betrayal.

But meeting Everett's family showed her a world she'd never imagined.

"Even without debts, even with a million dollars... I wouldn't have gambled it on uncertain treatment. These past four years, I've prayed daily - just let me live long enough to see Everett stand on his own feet. To spend a little more time with him."