Chapter 395 The Belated Truth
Elizabeth stopped what she was doing and sat on the bed. "Anthony, why did Michael kill your mom? They didn't have any beef with each other. Why would he do that?"
"Was it because of you? Did you piss off Michael, and he came after you, but your mom took the fall? Is that it?"
Anthony was speechless.
Elizabeth pressed on, "Anthony, why aren't you saying anything? Am I right? Did Michael find out about what you did to your grandmother?"
Anthony was stunned on the other end of the line. "Elizabeth, how did you know about that?"
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Don't forget, your grandmother was on the phone with me, yelling at me! It wasn't hard to figure out."
Anthony mumbled, "I thought no one would ever know."
Elizabeth didn't want to continue the conversation. "Is there anything else? If not, I'm hanging up."
Anthony sounded hurt. "Elizabeth, can't you just talk to me for a bit? I'm so lonely and miserable right now. I have no one to talk to."
"Anthony, isn't this your own doing? You betrayed me first, so why should I forget everything and comfort you? Do you think I'm that stupid?"
Anthony was indignant. "Elizabeth, you're treating me differently! You weren't this heartless with Michael! You knew he had someone else, but you still chose to be with him! You even slept with him and had his child!"
Elizabeth saw no point in arguing. "What I do is none of your business!"
She immediately hung up the phone.
Michael killed Anthony's mother? How could he be so reckless? It seemed his emotions were out of control.
Having possibly lost Eloise, and now learning that Mary's death wasn't an accident but a murder, and the murderer was a family member, was too much for anyone to bear.
Especially for Michael, who already had a history of depression.
At this moment, he must be feeling chaotic, heartbroken, and utterly alone.
Elizabeth thought, 'He must need someone to comfort and be there for him.'
Even though she told herself a thousand times not to fall for this man who always hurt her, she couldn't bear to leave him alone when he was in trouble.
She threw on a coat and hurried downstairs.
The driver saw her coming out and asked, "Ms. Jones, where to?" as he opened the car door for her.
Elizabeth got in immediately. "The Thomas family estate."
The car stopped, and Elizabeth rang the doorbell. Clio answered. Her eyes reddened as soon as she saw Elizabeth. "Ms. Jones, are you here to see Mr. Thomas? He's not home."
Elizabeth walked straight in. "I'll wait for him."
Maybe he didn't need her comfort or company, and maybe he didn't need her presence at all.
But she just wanted to show him that he wasn't alone. No matter what happened, she could stand by his side and be his support.
Since Eloise's incident, Clio had been a wreck.
Elizabeth tried to make conversation. "Clio, can you tell me which room Eloise stayed in?"
Clio's eyes lit up briefly at the mention of Eloise. "It's on the second floor, right next to Mr. Thomas' room."
Elizabeth knew exactly where Michael's room was. After all, she had lived there once.
She asked tentatively, "Can I see Eloise's room? I won't touch anything."
Clio nodded. "Sure, Ms. Jones. Go ahead. But don't stay too long. Mr. Thomas might not like it."
Elizabeth nodded. "Thank you."
She went upstairs and gently pushed open Eloise's door.
The room was decorated in soft pinks, with every detail reflecting Eloise's preferences. Even the sharp corners of the furniture were cushioned for safety.
Elizabeth sighed inwardly. Michael had indeed put a lot of thought into caring for Eloise.
A pang of bitterness rose in her heart but quickly faded.
After all, Eloise's fate was uncertain now, and she had sacrificed herself to save Francis.
Elizabeth should be grateful to her.
She sat at the desk, looking at the neatly arranged items, all spotless. It was clear Clio had taken meticulous care of Eloise.
On the desk was an old photo album, its edges worn from frequent handling. Many of the photos inside were yellowed with age.
Elizabeth couldn't resist her curiosity and opened it.
The first page was a group photo of two toddlers, about a year old, their genders indistinguishable.
The caption read: [Michael Thomas, Eloise Thomas, one year old.]
Elizabeth was stunned. Eloise's original name was Eloise Thomas? She was Michael's twin sister?
Back then, she decided to divorce Michael not only because he didn't want the child she was carrying but also because of Eloise's presence!
Michael knew she was bothered by Eloise, yet he chose to agree to the divorce rather than tell her the truth about Eloise's identity.
Now, the truth was out. Eloise was his sister, the children's aunt!
Why would Michael rather divorce her than tell her? Was he afraid she'd look down on him because of their family's genetic history?
She couldn't fathom his thoughts.
Elizabeth continued flipping through the album. There were more photos of Michael as a child, but they didn't resemble the Michael she knew now.
It wasn't until she saw a photo of him at five that she saw a hint of his current self.
Elizabeth remembered her childhood photos didn't change much. Why did Michael's appearance change so drastically?
Was it because she didn't know him from a young age?
Her heart felt tangled and sour. She closed the album, stood up, and left the room.
Clio asked, "Ms. Jones, are you leaving? Aren't you waiting for Mr. Thomas?"
Just then, car lights illuminated the yard. Michael was back.
Clio went to greet him. "Mr. Thomas, you're back. Ms. Jones is here to see you."
Michael handed her his coat, not even glancing in Elizabeth's direction. He changed his shoes and went straight upstairs, as if Elizabeth didn't exist.
Elizabeth gathered her courage and called out, "Michael."
Michael finally couldn't pretend not to see her. He turned to her indifferently. "What do you want?"
Elizabeth was speechless. Why was she here? She had come to comfort him. But it seemed he didn't need her comfort, and he even thought she was unnecessary.
Of course, the most important person to him had always been Eloise.
Now, the person he cherished was in a life-or-death situation because of her child, Francis.
Elizabeth thought bitterly, 'At this point, it's already a miracle that he hasn't killed me. How could I expect him to be kind to me?'
She shook her head and smiled sadly. "Nothing, I'm leaving."
She decided that she wouldn't come again in the future. Whether he lived or died, suffered or rejoiced, it had nothing to do with her anymore.
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