"Noelle, you are such a good girl, always putting everyone else first. You've suffered so much," Elaine said, feeling as though a thousand arrows were piercing her heart. She was blessed with such a considerate, gentle daughter, yet she couldn't even protect her.
Noelle offered a bitter smile. "I owe my life to this family. You love me so much, Mom. It's my duty to be obedient."
At The Sanders Conglomerate Press Hall, everything was meticulously arranged.
Noelle had dried her tears and dressed in a demure, conservative outfit. She was wheeled into the room in a wheelchair.
The reporters had all been hand-picked by Josephine. Everything was strictly controlled.
Having witnessed the matriarch's terrifying authority firsthand, Noelle didn't dare pull any stunts.
She read the statement word for word, maintaining a clear gaze and a solemn expression that made her appear highly credible.
After finishing the statement, she had zero desire to answer the reporters' questions. She knew perfectly well that the more she tried to explain, the guiltier she would look. The stain was impossible to wash out.
So, to thank the press for their time, she attempted to stand out of respect. However, she misjudged her injured leg, and the sudden jolt of agony caused her to lose her balance and crash to the floor once again. The excruciating pain left her drenched in a cold sweat, her face deathly pale, and amidst the frantic chaos of the staff, she passed out.
This time, Noelle wasn't carried away in a man's arms; she was carted out on a stretcher by the corporate medics. The cameras flashed aggressively, desperately trying to capture her sickly complexion.
Sitting in The VIP Observation Room, Josephine watched the entire spectacle unfold through a one-way mirror.
Her face betrayed no emotion, but Ava, standing beside her, felt a pang of sympathy.
"Ma'am, Miss Sanders is..."
"She won't die," Josephine remarked flatly. "Pain is the only teacher that forces a person to wake up."
Ava immediately fell silent, stepping back respectfully. She looked at the seventy-eight-year-old matriarch, noting the deep lines etched into her face by time, yet her eyes burned as sharply as ever.
Finnian had been away from the conglomerate all day. The moment he heard about the press conference, he rushed to wrap up a meeting and hurried back.
In the car, Dexter played a clip from the press conference. In just ten short minutes, Noelle had apologized profusely, then tragically forgot her injury while trying to stand out of respect, resulting in a brutal second fall. The pain was so intense it had literally knocked her unconscious.


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The readers' comments on the novel: What She Overheard in Her Own Marriage
Please update soon. This story is good. And I'm hoping it won't go till 2000 chapters.. Although it's current slow pace is telling....