Year Five The Perfect Goodbye Plan novel Chapter 291

Even through the phone, Jewel could sense Vianne’s rejection as clearly as if she’d been slapped.

Cigarette between her fingers, she exhaled a slow stream of smoke and let out a laugh—a little too loud, sharp around the edges.

“Sweetheart, everything I’ve done has been for your own good.”

She paused, dredging up that story from years ago, repeating it like a broken record in an attempt to hammer it into Vianne’s head. “When you were born, I risked everything to change your fate. I handed you over to the Ashford family, so you could have a privileged life, want for nothing. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?”

“…Your biggest mistake was telling me who I really was before I was old enough to understand.”

Vianne’s voice trembled with barely contained resentment as she spat out the words. Without waiting for a reply, she hung up.

Sitting on her bed, she finally gave in—tears streaming down her cheeks as sobs wracked her shoulders.

Back when she’d only just begun to grasp the complexities of human relationships, Jewel had always hovered around her, whispering over and over again, “I’m your real mother.”

At first, Vianne couldn’t understand why she and Silvia had swapped mothers, but the Ashfords had always been busy with work, rarely at home. Jewel, on the other hand, was always there. Vianne had longed for a mother’s presence, and Jewel was the one who provided it.

As the years passed, Vianne started to believe everything Jewel said.

If only things could have been different—she’d be the one married to Kent now.

—

Elsewhere, in Sylvaris.

Jewel had planned to turn in for the night, but Vianne’s phone call jolted her wide awake.

She got up, stretching lazily, stifling a yawn as she glanced around her dimly lit apartment.

Silvia’s response was firm. She had no intention of spreading rumors. The only reason she was investigating at all was to uncover the truth behind Wilhelmina’s death.

Satisfied, Fairchild allowed himself a thin smile. “One more thing, Miss Ashford. There’s an issue with your grandmother’s official time of death… It’s not quite accurate.”

They even changed the time of death?

Silvia’s hands clenched as her breath caught. “Was it reported as earlier or later?”

“Later,” Fairchild sighed. “Another patient passed away around the same time, so your grandmother’s death was recorded a bit later than it actually happened.”

“Mr. Doyle, how could they have known exactly when that other patient would die? Isn’t that… premeditated?”

Silvia’s suspicion flared. If those people could alter medical records, what was to stop them from hastening—or even causing—a patient’s death?