He Buried Me But I Painted My Own Resurrection novel Chapter 254

The next morning, sunlight spilled through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the elegant Sullivan living room.

Evelyn hadn't slept a wink. Faint shadows lingered under her eyes, but she was brimming with a feverish, almost unnatural energy.

She personally called Hunter Hale. Under the guise of thanking Lady K for attending the dinner, she warmly invited Sienna over for tea and casually mentioned that Sienna had left her silk scarf in the dining room.

Evelyn had deliberately placed that scarf near Sienna's chair the night before.

Sienna was suspicious when she received the message. Yet, remembering the aching tenderness in Evelyn's eyes from the previous night, she agreed.

She needed to figure out exactly what was hiding behind this sudden, overwhelming kindness.

At ten o'clock sharp, Sienna arrived.

Today, Evelyn was even warmer than before, though there was a cautious, probing edge to her hospitality.

She pulled Sienna onto the sofa, seamlessly transitioning the conversation from art to everyday life. The atmosphere was so harmonious they seemed like old friends despite the age gap.

"Sienna, you have such beautiful hair," Evelyn said, her gaze fixed with unmasked admiration on Sienna's ink-black locks. "It's so thick and shiny, like the finest silk."

As she spoke, she casually reached out, mimicking the affectionate gesture of an elder doting on a younger relative. "It's a little tangled right here. Let me fix it for you."

Her fingertips gently threaded through Sienna's hair, her movements slow and soothing.

In the split second Sienna let her guard down, Evelyn's fingernails pinched near the roots and, with a silent, swift tug, extracted a single strand of hair complete with a white follicle.

She hid the strand in her palm and smoothly withdrew her hand. The entire process was so incredibly natural and fast that it was completely imperceptible.

Sienna only felt a microscopic tug on her scalp and didn't think much of it.

Evelyn's heart was hammering wildly.

She discreetly slipped the hair into a prepared ziplock bag tucked in her pocket, which already contained strands she had pulled from her own head last night.

However, this scene of maternal affection and intimacy was witnessed in its entirety by Sabrina, who had just stepped out of her second-floor bedroom.

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