He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 278

Yorath let out a soft chuckle. "Education is for everyone, right? A true educator shouldn't discriminate based on a student's background. If he's perfectly happy teaching in a high-end city school but immediately calls you to complain the second he gets transferred to a rural district, what does that say about him? Doesn't he know that rural schools are the ones that desperately need high-quality educational resources so those kids actually have a shot at success? Who exactly is Yves looking down on?"

Ottilie had fully intended to interrogate him, but after just a few sentences from Yorath, he had twisted the narrative to make it sound like Yves was the one in the wrong.

And she couldn't even find the words to argue back.

"Yves is a man of high moral character, and he treats all his students equally. Don't you dare smear his name."

"If he's so noble, then what does he have to complain about?" Yorath shot back effortlessly. "You didn't even look into the facts before you started interrogating me, and you're telling me I'm smearing his name? You don't think he's the one trying to frame me here?"

His logic was surgically precise.

Ottilie instinctively rushed to defend Yves. "He didn't say a single word blaming you! I'm the one who guessed it. If you want to yell at someone, yell at me."

Yorath merely shot her a cold glance, picked up the tray of dirty dishes, and walked out of the room without another word.

Ottilie sat back against the headboard, staring blankly at the wall for a long moment before exhaustion pulled her under.

She collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep instantly.

When Yorath returned, he found her sleeping soundly, completely unbothered.

He wanted nothing more than to shake her awake and force her to hash this out.

What exactly was her relationship with that teacher?

How much space did Yves Walden occupy in her heart?

But in the end, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He lay down beside her, his eyes wide open, staying awake the entire night.

The next morning.

Yorath silently placed a recording device on the table and hit play. It was Dr. Thorne's confession.

Hearing it, Quentin slammed his fist against the table in outrage.

"That is absolute bullshit! Yorath, I'm your own brother! You're choosing to believe some random outsider over me? Do you know how heartbroken Mom would be if she heard this? When you were beaten in the Ancestral Hall last time, wasn't I the first one to rush out and carry you to the hospital? Didn't I tell the doctors that if your ribs punctured any of your organs, they could harvest mine to save you? What about Ottilie, huh? If you needed an organ, would she rip hers out for you?"

"We're blood. Are you really going to let me rot in here over a woman? I'm telling Mom that you're treating me like garbage. I'm calling Grandpa..."

Yorath sat perfectly still, letting Quentin rant until he ran out of breath. Then, he spoke calmly.

"If we weren't blood, you wouldn't even be getting this visit. I'm here to give you one chance to tell me the truth. I'll ask you one last time. Did you or did you not have them do those things to Ottilie?"

"No," Quentin said firmly, without a hint of hesitation.

"I'm going to keep digging," Yorath stated coldly. "If what you're saying is true, I'll have you released on bail within three days. But if you're lying, you've already wasted your one chance to come clean. There won't be a second."