Chapter 518

The tension in the room was suffocating. Isabella clutched Nathaniel's arm, her fingers trembling. "Please, we need to hurry," she urged, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rosalind's lips curled into a mocking smile. "Why the rush? Dr. Graves here is an old friend of yours, isn't he? Didn't you enlist his help to save Nathaniel all those years ago?"

Gabrielle's eyes widened in realization. "Wait a minute, Isabella! Why does it seem like you don’t even recognize Dr. Graves?"

Nathaniel stiffened. Something was off. Just moments ago, Isabella had treated Dr. Graves like a stranger, her disdain palpable.

His gaze hardened as he turned to her. "You don’t know him?"

Panic flickered across Isabella’s face. "I—I was so young back then. It took me a moment to remember. But I do now. It’s him." She pressed a hand to her chest. "Nathaniel, I’m not feeling well. The surgery—we need to proceed."

Victoria, sensing disaster, quickly intervened. "Mr. Hawk, the surgery is critical. They can discuss this later."

Margaret nodded in agreement. "Yes, Nathaniel. Isabella’s condition is delicate. We must act now."

Then, Harrison’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Isabella, how long do you plan to keep up this act?"

Rosalind smirked. "Pathetic, really. The truth always comes out."

Nathaniel turned to Harrison, his patience fraying. "What are you implying?"

Gabrielle stepped forward. "We’re not implying anything. We’re stating facts."

Nathaniel’s jaw tightened. "What facts?"

Dr. Graves moved closer, his gaze unwavering. "How can you possibly believe Isabella saved you?"

The words struck Nathaniel like a physical blow.

Isabella wasn’t his savior.

She wasn’t the girl from the cave.

Though doubts had already crept into his mind, hearing it confirmed left him frozen. His thoughts scattered, his breath catching in his throat.

Nathaniel stared at Isabella, her features distorting in his vision, morphing into the face of the girl he’d met years ago.

The Whitmore family was in chaos, and Isabella was unraveling.

For years, she had been their trump card—the one who’d saved Nathaniel’s life. Now, that illusion was crumbling.

Isabella grabbed Nathaniel’s sleeve desperately. "Don’t listen to them! Dr. Graves is mistaken! It was me—I saved you! Don’t you remember the crystal pendant?"

Crystal pendant?

Nathaniel’s mind raced. Yes, she’d given it to him. But if she wasn’t the girl from that day, where had it come from?

He shoved her away, his voice icy. "Don’t touch me."

Turning to Dr. Graves, he demanded, "Could you be wrong? She has the pendant. She has to be the one."

Isabella nodded frantically. "It’s me! I swear it!"

Rosalind scoffed. "Nathaniel, you need to see this."

She pulled out her phone and played a video.

The footage showed Isabella slipping into Harrison’s living room. When no one was looking, she snatched the crystal pendant from the table.

Isabella gasped, her face draining of color. She hadn’t known Harrison had cameras installed.

Her theft had been captured in perfect clarity.