?Chapter 610:
Memories long buried rose unbidden, carrying me back to a night that had haunted me for years—a night steeped in darkness so consuming it felt alive, wing at me with icy hands.
If not for her… if that girl hadn’t been there, Dominic, yton, and I might have perished in the abyss of that dreadful night.
My gaze softened, the sharp edges of my tone dulling with an unfamiliar gentleness.
“Do you have any siblings?” I asked, my voice quieter now.
Evelyn blinked, clearly taken aback by the sudden change in subject. But she answered honestly, “Your Highness, I had an older sister. She passed away, though.”
“You had a sister?” I repeated, staring at her like a statue. My heart thudded as I pressed, “What was her name?”
Her expression clouded with sorrow. “Anthea Smith,” she said softly, each syble striking me like a thunderp.
Anthea Smith.
The name exploded in my mind, scattering coherent thought like shrapnel. My breath hitched, and my heart mmed against my ribs as my body felt suspended in time.
“Your Highness, my sister passed away before I was born,” Evelyn continued, unaware of the turmoil inside me. “My parents told me she was just around seventeen when it happened.”
The pieces fell together with chilling precision. The age matched. The name matched.
But could such a coincidence even exist in this world?
I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing the words out. “Why is your surname Nixon, but your sister’s was Smith?”
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Evelyn tilted her head slightly, her voice calm despite the weight of the conversation. “I took my father’s surname, Nixon, while my sister took my mother’s, Smith.”
Her exnation was simple, logical—and yet, it sent a fresh wave of fire coursing through my veins. My body trembled fiercely.
Without another word, I turned on my heel, stumbling out of the emergency room.
I had to know. I needed to uncover the truth. Was Evelyn really Anthea’s sister?
Makenna’s POV:
I couldn’t remember how I made it back to my house. My mind was a tangled mess, consumed by the chaos that had just erupted in the cafeteria.
Copsing onto my bed, I felt like a lifeless puppet whose strings had been severed.
Exhaustion dragged me down, and I stared nkly at the ceiling as tears slipped free, unbidden, soaking the corner of my pillow.
I used to think my heart belonged solely to yton, that his every nce and word could send me into an emotional tailspin.
But somewhere along the line, I realized Bryan had begun to creep into my thoughts, stealing pieces of my affection. Perhaps, if I were beingpletely honest with myself, all three princes had managed to carve out space in my heart, each in their own way.
What hurt the most, though, was the way yton and Bryan had looked at Evelyn earlier that morning in the training room.
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.
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