No Second Baby No You Only Divorce (Scarlett and Vincent) novel Chapter 615

Since they couldn't see Nathan, there was no point in the family sticking around the station any longer.

But the ride home was heavy, thick with unspoken tension.

Once they were back at Theron Manor, everyone gathered in the living room, but not a single person spoke.

The silence stretched on, awkward and suffocating.

It was hard to say how much time had passed before Violet finally forced a smile and broke the quiet. "Henry, Diana, it's really late. You should head upstairs and get some rest."

Diana wanted to apologize, but she knew it wouldn't change anything.

She desperately wanted to say something, yet deep down, she felt no words would make a difference.

In the end, all she could manage was a helpless sigh. "Alright."

She nudged Henry. "Come on, let's go up."

Scarlett sat in her wheelchair, a blanket tucked carefully around her legs by Violet.

Even with Nathan still at the station, Violet hadn't stopped looking after her.

Scarlett had always admired Violet for that—for being so steady, so strong.

So tonight, watching her like this, Scarlett's chest ached.

But right now, she didn't have any answers either.

After the older couple headed upstairs, Violet turned to Scarlett. "Let me take you up so you can rest."

Scarlett noticed the redness creeping into Violet's eyes and reached out to touch her hand. "Violet, try not to worry too much. I'm sure it'll be okay."

Even as she said it, she knew it was hollow. Nathan was still in custody. Nobody could say what would happen next.

Violet just nodded, her voice catching. "Yeah."

She wheeled Scarlett upstairs.

Nobody mentioned dinner that night. They all just went to their rooms.

Scarlett knew this whole mess traced back to Vincent. If there was going to be a solution, it had to go through him.

She sat in the dark for a long time, turning things over in her mind. Finally, she pushed herself out of her room.

Rolling to a stop outside Diana and Henry's door, she raised her hand to knock. She needed to know exactly what had happened tonight—why Nathan had thrown that punch, what had set everything off.

But before her knuckles touched the wood, Diana's voice drifted through, thick with worry.

"What are we going to do? If something happens to Nathan, if he ends up with a record—won't that affect Clara's future? College applications, background checks..."

Scarlett's heart clenched.

She lowered her hand and turned away. Instead, she went to Violet's room.

The door was slightly ajar, and she could hear Violet inside, phone pressed to her ear.

"Hi, is this Mr. Hayes? Yes, hello—I was wondering if you might be able to help me with something?"

Once they were outside the manor gates, she sent the maid away, saying she wanted some time alone to clear her head.

After the maid disappeared from view, Scarlett pulled out her phone and called an Uber. When it arrived, she had the driver help with her wheelchair, then slid into the back seat.

The car dropped her at the entrance to Ravenshade Villa. From there, she pushed herself up the driveway alone.

The moment she passed through the gate, her wheels hit the cobblestone path. It was rough going—the chair jolted and struggled over the uneven stones. She pushed hard, her palms scraping against the rubber grips, but she kept going.

Finally, she reached the main entrance and rolled inside. Vincent was in the living room, watching television.

That alone was strange. Usually, he was either at the office, out drinking with Daniel and Harris, or holed up in his study. But tonight, he was just... sitting there, staring at the screen.

Scarlett had lived in this house long enough to know that from where he was sitting, a simple turn of his head would give him a clear view of the front garden.

He must have seen her struggling up the path.

He just chose not to.

But Scarlett felt nothing about that anymore. After all these years, she'd stopped expecting anything else.

She rolled to a stop in the middle of the living room. "Vincent. We need to talk."

He didn't look at her. "About what?"

"You know what."

Only then did he turn. His eyes swept over her—cold, dismissive. "Alright then. I'm listening. Say whatever it is you came to say."