His every word was so heavily laced with emotion that it moved people.
In that instant, faint ripples of fear flowed through my heart.
Yet the pain when I thought of the night before my mother died was even more incredible.
Closing my eyes, her hateful eyes and helpless demeanor filled my mind.
When I opened them again, I regained my footing.
I looked at Sylvester and smiled. “President Yard, your words are moving, but do you think I’d believe them?” My smile grew wider after I said that.
Sylvester’s body faltered when he heard that. He obviously had not expected that answer from me.
After a moment, he came back to his senses and asked, “You don’t?”
“Of course not.” There was doubt in my eyes as I immediately resumed, "Every time I close my eyes now, I’d think of how Silas had allowed outsiders to break into our mother’s room the night before she died. They humiliated her and forced her to her death. Why would I trust such a ruthless person?!"
Sylvester's expression froze, and he dropped his hands from the table with furrowed brows. "Who told you this?"
Judging from his tone, it seemed like Sylvester already knew about it.
I narrowed my eyes at him and asked him a question that I did not want to ask but had to. “You knew?”
“I…”
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