A Widow's Poison, A Wife's Rebellion novel Chapter 869

The lab results came back fast.

The test confirmed it: the DNA belonged to Brinley Seabrook.

Staring at the report, Herbert's hands curled into tight, trembling fists.

It was Brinley. It was actually Brinley...

...

Starla didn't return to the estate until nightfall. Covered in sweat from the range, she walked straight into the grand foyer and headed for the stairs.

She spotted Yardley sitting in the living room. Without a word of greeting, she kept walking.

"Did you not see me?" Yardley asked.

Starla paused on the stairs, glancing back at him over her shoulder. Still, she said nothing and resumed climbing.

"Starla," Yardley called out.

"I've decided to move to Ravena Country!" she announced coldly.

To hell with whatever convoluted games they were all playing. She wasn't participating anymore. She hadn't wanted to get dragged into this mess to begin with, and now this suffocating web of secrets was choking her.

She was tapping out.

She didn't want any of it anymore.

Hearing she was leaving for Ravena Country, Yardley's expression hardened. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Isn't it obvious? I don't want this family anymore either!"

She had spent the entire day at the shooting range thinking it over. She couldn't understand why Yardley would order her to hand Brinley over to Herbert.

He was her flesh and blood...

She had endured so much betrayal in her life, and she had accepted it. But this time? This, she couldn't accept. And she wouldn't tolerate it.

"You already killed Brinley, and you're still throwing a tantrum?!" Yardley scolded.

Starla turned around to look at him, her silence deepening. Her eyes held an endless, bottomless disappointment.

Killed her? So that meant it was supposed to be over? Did that erase everything they had done? Was she not allowed to hold them accountable?

She stayed in her room, not coming down even when dinner was served.

"Go call Miss Starla down for dinner," Yardley ordered a maid.

His stubborn little sister had quite a temper. Over such a trivial matter, she was actually threatening to run away from home.

"Right away, Sir," the maid nodded, hurrying upstairs.

But less than a minute later, the maid came rushing back down in a panic. "Mr. Hoggart, it's bad!"

Yardley frowned. He had just been sitting there trying to figure out how to coax his sister out of her bad mood, and now the maid was screaming that things were bad. He shot her a freezing glare.

The maid flinched, stammering, "M-Miss Starla is packing her bags. She's leaving!"

Yardley's eyes widened.

She was actually serious?

He took the stairs two at a time. When he reached her bedroom door, he saw exactly what the maid had reported. She was packing. Packing only *her* personal belongings.

As he walked in, she zipped up her suitcase.