Chapter 599

Everett's eyes were bloodshot and swollen. He hadn't been home much these days, keeping his distance to shield Lillian and Margaret from his dangerous activities. Protecting his family meant keeping them out of the public eye.

But today, Margaret had suddenly taken ill.

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" His voice cracked with emotion.

Margaret gave him a gentle smile. "It wasn't so bad. Rosalind took excellent care of me, and the doctors provided the best treatment. Everett, I didn't want to burden you. All I want is for you to live a peaceful life. That's what your father would have wanted too. Do you understand?"

She had spent years trying to steer him away from the path Theodore had taken.

Everett gripped her frail hand, his voice thick. "Don't worry. This time, things will be different."

Tears spilled down Margaret's cheeks. "My darlings..."

Rosalind and Lillian moved closer, each taking one of her hands.

Margaret pressed their palms together. "I'm leaving now. Don't grieve for me. I'll be with your father. He's been alone all these years—he must miss me terribly."

Rosalind's shoulders shook as silent sobs wracked her body.

"Everett, I'm entrusting Lillian to you. She's your sister—protect her. And Rosalind... she's a remarkable woman. You're fortunate to have her. Cherish her."

Everett swallowed hard, fighting back tears. "I will."

Margaret's smile was faint but serene. "I've had a good life. Your father when I was young, then you two. Life isn't perfect, but its small joys make it worthwhile. Now... it's time for me to rest."

With those final words, her eyes fluttered shut, her expression peaceful as she slipped away.

So much remained unspoken—regrets about Theodore, sorrow at not seeing her children's futures—but time had run out.

She departed quietly, leaving behind a silence heavy with unvoiced love.

Everett and Lillian collapsed into each other, their anguished cries echoing through the room. "Mom!"

Margaret was gone.

Later, Rosalind found Everett alone in the dim hallway. His broad frame leaned heavily against the wall, clad only in a black sweater.

In that moment, his powerful build seemed strangely vulnerable. Head bowed, he stood motionless, shadows clinging to him like grief.

Rosalind approached. "I've made arrangements for Mrs. Sinclair's funeral. If you need to handle anything, go ahead. I'll stay with Lillian."

Everett straightened, his eyes raw. He had to leave. He had to return.

Genevieve would be searching for him by now.

Even in his mother's final moments, he couldn't stay.

Without Rosalind, he might have missed his last chance to see Margaret.

Life's burdens had crushed him young, leaving no choices.

The injustice burned hotter the more he thought about it. Revenge festered in his chest. He met Rosalind's gaze. "Thank you. For everything."

There was so much more to say, but words failed him. Gratitude was all he could offer—for her presence when he needed it most, for standing beside him in his darkest hours.

Rosalind stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. She pressed her cheek to his chest, listening to the steady rhythm beneath. "Don't thank me. If you need to cry, then cry. I know how much this hurts."

The dam broke. Everett's shoulders shook as silent tears fell at last.