Chapter 483
In the car, Effie gazed out the window, her thoughts tangled and heavy.
Lyman reached over, placing both hands gently on her shoulders, turning her to face him.
Effie met his eyes, uncertain. For a moment, she couldn’t find the words.
“I’m exhausted,” she murmured at last. “Let me borrow your shoulder for a bit.”
“Of course.”
Lyman guided her head down, resting it against his own shoulder. He let out a weary sigh.
“If you keep sighing like that,” he teased, “the sky’s liable to come crashing down.” Effie frowned, swatting his arm. “I’m really not in the mood for jokes.”
Lyman wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. “I know what’s weighing on you. Right now, it’s true-Isabel did save you. Maybe it wasn’t exactly how you imagined, but we owe her our care, whether we like it or not.”
But Effie caught the implication in his words.
She jerked her head up, looking at him sharply-so quickly that she nearly knocked into his chin.
He rubbed his jaw, chuckling. “Careful there. That was almost a direct hit.”
“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to,” she apologized quickly. After a pause, she added, “When you said ‘right now,’ what did you mean? Are you saying you think Isabel might be faking?”
Lyman’s face grew serious. He nodded. “No one knows Isabel better than I do. If she were just trying to take credit, maybe I could accept that. But this… this feels different. I can’t help but wonder if none of it is sincere.”
Effie sighed. “I’ve been thinking the same thing, but I don’t have any proof. That’s why I haven’t said anything. Fidelia’s too impulsive.”
“She’s probably just tipped Isabel off to be even more careful now,” Effie added ruefully.
“It’s alright,” Lyman said evenly. “If Isabel’s lying, we’ll find her weak spot sooner or later.”
He watched Effie for a moment, concern creasing his brow. “Honestly, you’re the one I’m most worried about.”
Effie couldn’t help but smile at that. “Worried? I’m not a child, you know.”
He smiled back, ruffling her hair with fondness. “I know.”
Not long after Lindy left, the door to the hospital room swung open again.
Isabel glanced up, unsurprised by the visitor.
Grace McCloud strode in, her gaze icy as it swept over Isabel. “I have to hand it to you, Isabel,” she said coldly. “Only you would dare pull a stunt like this-hurting yourself just
to win sympathy.”
Isabel was a dancer. For her, her legs were everything. Without them, she’d never walk again, let alone dance.
She really would go that far.
Looking at Grace, Isabel kept her voice even. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Grace snorted. “Please, Isabel. We’ve known each other too long for you to play innocent with me.”
“I know exactly what you’re after. You’re alone-no family, no support. And now you’re half out of the company. If you don’t cling to the Etheridge family for dear life how
else are you going to survive?”
Isabel’s eyes darkened. Grace’s words struck too close to home, and anger threatened to boil over.
“Shut up, Grace! If anyone’s been
leeching off the Etheridge family, it’s you! You’re all adults now, with your own jobs and even families of your own, and yet you’re still living under their roof!” Isabel shot back, her fists clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms.
Seeing Isabel’s desperate frustration, Grace only smiled wider.
“Jealous, aren’t you?” Grace taunted. “Too bad, Isabel. The Etheridges only ever recognized me and my sister-not you.”