Sign the Papers Mr. Langford novel Chapter 117

Eleanor's hospital visit that day was infuriating.

It wasn't because of anything the doctor said.

On the contrary, the doctor was perfectly reassuring: her vitals were fine, she just needed to take her meds, avoid stress, and get regular sleep.

But when Eleanor walked out of the consultation room, she looked even worse than when she went in.

Willow held her arm, asking softly, "Eleanor, is something bothering you?"

Eleanor patted the back of Willow's hand, her tone softening. "No. It's just... whenever Wren came with me, everything was arranged in advance. All I had to do was sit. Now everything is scattered, and even picking up a simple report is a hassle."

She paused mid-sentence.

It was as if she had accidentally admitted something she didn't want to.

Willow heard it loud and clear, but she didn't take the opportunity to praise Wren.

Instead, she lowered her eyes and said submissively, "Wren has always been detail-oriented. She's taken care of you for years, of course she knows the routine better than I do."

Eleanor immediately frowned. "Stop defending her. If she actually cared, she wouldn't have abandoned her elders just to throw a tantrum over a divorce."

Willow let out a soft sigh.

"Maybe Wren is just too exhausted."

It sounded like empathy.

But to Eleanor's ears, it completely missed the mark.

Exhausted?

The Langford family fed her, clothed her, gave her the title of Mrs. Langford, and offered her ultimate prestige. What did she have to be exhausted about?

The resentment in Eleanor's chest flared like dry wood hitting a spark.

"Exhausted?" Eleanor sneered. "Has this family ever mistreated her? She doesn't have to socialize, she doesn't have to worry about the company. All she does is watch the kid and keep the elderly company. Do you know how many women would kill for a life like that? And look at her—after a few years of basic duties, she acts like she's the biggest victim on earth."

Willow didn't argue.

She knew exactly when to shut her mouth.

Some fires didn't need her to add fuel; they just needed her to stand by and make the person feel understood.

A nurse called their number to collect the report. Just as Willow turned to go, Eleanor grabbed her arm, her gaze locking onto Willow's neck.

Right below the collar of her cardigan was a faint red mark.

Faintly visible.

Not glaringly obvious, but undeniable to anyone who knew what it was.

Eleanor's expression shifted.

Sensing the gaze, Willow panicked and tugged at her collar, her face flushing crimson. "Eleanor, I'll go get the report."

She fled quickly.

Watching her hurry away, the lingering annoyance in Eleanor's chest was suddenly overshadowed by something else.

She had always liked Willow.

Willow glanced down at the tightly clenched fingers, a brief flash of triumph crossing her eyes.

It was happening.

The more ruthless Wren was, the more Eleanor would side with her.

She just needed to make Eleanor believe that Wren's departure wasn't clarity, but vengeance; not self-preservation, but an attack on the Langford family's dignity.

The ride back to the estate was dead silent.

Willow sat beside her, quietly rubbing her back to soothe her. As the trees blurred past the window, she stared at her reflection and thought of her morning phone call with Lydia.

Vivian Vance.

That was the only name she had.

She knew Vivian was Wren's mother, she knew Vivian possessed a crucial document before her death, and she knew Lawrence was digging into it.

Beyond that, she was completely in the dark.

She had no idea what 'Project Morning Star' was.

She didn't know what went down with Langford Medical's old product line.

She didn't know why Quentin tore apart Vivian's study, or why Lydia's voice trembled at the mere mention of her name.

The unknown was infuriating.

It was like a locked door—you never knew if opening it would reveal dust, or a loaded gun.