Annette’s face flushed with embarrassment. “Wiona, when did you get here?” Her voice was tentative. “Don’t get the wrong idea. I wasn’t scheming with Libby behind your back.”
Wiona reached out and took her mother’s hand. “Mom, it’s fine. I know. I heard everything.” Annette finally relaxed, letting out a shaky breath. She squeezed Wiona’s hand, holding on a little tighter. “I just don’t want us to keep drifting apart as a family. It’s better to put misunderstandings out in the open, clear the air before things get worse.”
Wiona understood exactly what Annette meant. She nodded, then turned toward the living room. Without so much as a glance back, she called out, “Bring her in.”
She eased herself onto the sofa, one hand resting on her belly. Tim and Jim shoved Libby forward without any care. Phil had already cleared out all the servants, making sure no one got anywhere near the room. Now, it was just Wiona, Annette, and Libby. Even Tim and Jim had stepped back to wait by the door.
Libby glanced around, noticing she’d sent the bodyguards away. There was a flicker of disdain in her eyes. “What’s this? Aren’t you scared I’ll get back at you anymore?” She let out a sharp laugh, full of mockery.
Wiona barely reacted. Her voice stayed calm, almost bored. “Get back at me for what exactly? For your mother?” She looked him over. “Honestly, Libby, I didn’t realize you could be so clueless. Why are you so sure your mother’s death had anything to do with me?”
Libby scoffed. “Did I ever say my grudge was because of my mother’s death? Are you just confessing right now?”


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