Chapter 300 She's Disfigured
After learning about Eva's identity and personality, Winona had decided to be cautious. Although she wasn't sure if Eva was targeting her, such coincidences usually spelled trouble.
What was initially a precaution turned out to be useful sooner than expected.
The scene fell into a hushed silence. The others were looking at Winona with strange expressions. "Was she spying on herself, like some kind of voyeur?" someone whispered, voicing the unspoken uncertainties in the room.
Opening her laptop, Winona recalled the recently mended hairpin. Although she had intended to submit it that day, a surprise inspection by the bosses thwarted her plans. Watching the playback from three days prior, she saw herself placing the restored hairpin in a labeled box before dedicating her time to reviving an antique crown with her fellow workers.
The surveillance footage, tethered to her phone case, revealed only her movements; any visitor cleverly evaded the camera's watchful eye.
This revelation reassured the onlookers that she wasn't some sort of peeping Tom. The sighs of relief were almost audible.
Winona looked at the aggrieved Daniel, her voice full of sarcasm. "Daniel, can we now prove that the antique hairpin isn't my responsibility?"
Daniel panted heavily and said, "The problem with the antique hairpin happened under your watch; you can't escape responsibility. Who knows if you instructed someone to do it? No one could have stolen your key in this busy office."
"Oh," Winona smiled and dragged out her words. "Are you suggesting that someone in this museum is colluding with me? Besides, I'm not the only one with a key."
The storage manager and Caleb also had spare keys.
Daniel sneered,"It's not impossible..."
Before he could finish, he realized he had fallen into Winona's trap.
Everyone was now glaring at him, especially Caleb, who sternly said, "Get out."
If the leadership weren't present, he would have directly fire him.
The museum couldn't tolerate someone with such a malicious mindset, who always tried to frame colleagues, when he was incompetent and envious of others' talents.
Caleb's words held an edge as he pronounced judgment. "Winona might be young, but her talent speaks volumes. Born from Harper’s lineage and Walter's legacy, her capabilities surpass your assumptions. While you were honing your skills, she was likely mastering hers."
Harper and Walter—a duo synonymous with industry excellence and innovation. Anyone remotely linked to this field recognized these names, instantly altering their perception of Winona.
Caleb handed the hairpin issue over to the police. After sending off the leadership, he immediately fired Daniel.
"You won't blame me for revealing your identity, will you?"
Harper had been out of the field for many years, and only a few old experts who had interacted with her could still recognize her techniques. Caleb had had this suspicion while watching television, and later, through a mix of tricks and deceit, he managed to uncover Winona's identity.
Winona shook her head. "Your actions solidified my position in their eyes. I should be thanking you, not blaming you."
The problem was, Daniel had claimed he was informed by someone else about the problem with the antique hairpin.
'Who told him? Eva?' Winona thought to herself.
Winona left the museum and sat in her car, but she didn't start the engine right away.
She opened WhatsApp, not for any particular reason, just out of habit.
Dylan's profile was second on the list, with the last message sent in the morning: [Mrs. Bailey, Mr. Bailey has a fever of 103°F. He refused to take medicine and kicked me out for being annoying.]
The first was from her private investigator, Gregory: [The hostess who drank with Eva last night got drunk, fell on her way back, and her face hit a sharp rock. She's disfigured and now in the hospital.]
[Whether she fell on her own or was pushed, I don't know. The surveillance on that road happened to be malfunctioned.]
He was following Eva and hadn't paid attention to the hostess. The disfigurement was something he learned by chance.
Winona replied: [Got it. Keep an eye on her and be careful.]
She started the car, and Dylan's call came in right on time, pleading, "Mrs. Bailey, Mr. Bailey isn't answering my calls, and no one is picking up the landline. Do you have time to check on him for me?"
Winona asked, "What are you doing?"
"I'm busy right now. When I left, Mr. Bailey was delirious with fever. Now he's not answering calls or messages. Could he be..."
Winona could hear a sob in Dylan's voice. It was hard to imagine Dylan is a man over six feet by the sound he was making.
"I'll call him." she replied eventually.
Winona took Zachary off the blacklist and dialed his number, but what answered her was silence.
She called the housekeeper, who turned out had resigned two days ago to take care of her grandchild.
After two failed attempts, Winona stared at her phone, muttering, "Could a grown man really die from a fever? Even if he can't move, he could still call the family doctor."
With that thought, she felt more at ease.
But at the intersection, Winona bit her lip and turned the car to the left lane.
Approaching Regal Oaks, her vehicle glided effortlessly through the gates with her authorized fingerprint still intact.
She pushed open the door and glanced around the living room, but no one was there. "Zachary?" she called out.
No response.
Winona frowned slightly as she opened the shoe cabinet to grab a pair of shoe covers, only to see her slippers from last year still neatly placed in their usual spot.
After some thought, she put on shoe covers.
No one on the first floor, so she went up to the second floor. The master bedroom door was unlocked. She knocked, and there was no response again.
Could he really be unconscious from illness?
She didn't care about propriety anymore and pushed the door open.
At the same time, the bathroom door opened, and Zachary walked out, water dripping from his hair and body, sliding down his firm chest and abs into the towel wrapped around his waist.
Sensing something, he looked straight at Winona at the door.
Seeing he was fine, Winona finally relaxed and scolded, "Why didn't you lock the door while showering?"
Zachary laughed and walked towards her. "I live alone. Locking doors’s a bit extra, don't you think?"
Hearing his voice, full of energy and vigor, there wasn't the slightest hint of the weakness that came with illness.
Winona turned to leave without a word, but Zachary quickly grabbed her hand and pulled her into the room.
The door slammed shut behind them.
Zachary chuckled lowly, looking pleased. "Came to see me?"
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