Everyone was advising James Grant to let go, everyone.
James Grant wasn’t a fool; he knew that Tristan Hawthorne and Keith Donovan came to him that night with a delaying tactic. He knew that Yara Reagan would never give up trying to take Evelyn Clayton away.
He also knew that Evelyn Clayton would never give up searching for the murderer who killed her biological father.
But if Evelyn Clayton really left, and if she saw the truth, if that day really came, he and Evelyn Clayton would never be able to turn back.
Of course, James Grant hated Harrison Grant; he hated that Harrison Grant’s cold-bloodedness had caused his mother’s death, that his ruthless methods had hurt Evelyn Clayton. He hated Harrison Grant because Harrison Grant had almost destroyed everything and everyone he cared about.
But Harrison Grant was also his father. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ NoveIꜰire.net
It was his mother who, even on her deathbed, kept telling him not to hate his father.
"Stay with me," James Grant’s voice was hoarse and low. He clung to Evelyn Clayton like a drowning man clings to his last piece of driftwood. "As long as you stay, I promise, I will give you an explanation for your father’s death."
Evelyn Clayton’s tears flowed unconsciously. She stared blankly into nothingness, speaking one word at a time, "Really? Give me an explanation... If Harrison Grant really is the murderer, would you have him pay for my father’s death?"
James Grant’s hand froze slightly.
"You wouldn’t, right?" Tears poured down Evelyn Clayton’s face, her lips curling into a mocking arc. She turned back to look sideways at James Grant, love and hate intertwining within her, nearly tearing her apart.
"James Grant, I’m over twenty years old. Do you know how many nights I’ve lain awake because of my father’s death? Do you know how agonizing each day was by Philip Lockwood and Charlotte Sterling’s sides?"
"Do you know how painful it was for me, because that car accident not only took my father’s life but also took away the loving family I should have had, and took away the mother who once treated me well?"
Evelyn Clayton pried his fingers open bit by bit, retreating backwards.
She had never cried so bitterly before, "If my father were still here, I wouldn’t have fallen into such a predicament."
James Grant watched Evelyn Clayton with a face drained of color, mumbling as he stepped forward, "No, Evelyn, I know, I want you to be happy, that’s why I—"
"You don’t know." Evelyn Clayton’s eyes were bloodshot, staring intensely at James Grant, "You can’t understand this feeling because Harrison Grant never treated you . Even after your mother died, your life wasn’t affected. You’re still Harrison Grant’s good son, and he always protects you."
James Grant wanted to say something, suddenly noticing Evelyn Clayton slowly retreating, already very close to the stairs.
His gaze changed dramatically, and just as he was about to say something, Evelyn Clayton took a misstep—
James Grant rushed forward like a madman, but he couldn’t grasp Evelyn Clayton’s hand.
Evelyn Clayton’s eyes widened in shock, but she had no time to react, her body losing balance and tumbling down the stairs.
As if her body had shattered into countless fragments, Evelyn Clayton’s eyes opened weakly, the light in front of her slowly dispersing.
But she didn’t lose consciousness, though everything around her seemed to shatter with her, unable to piece back together.
She heard the heart-wrenching shouts, from both James Grant and Yara Reagan.
The sound of a woman crying reached her ears. Evelyn Clayton didn’t know who held her up, but she saw Yara Reagan’s face, along with another haggard woman’s face filled with fear and complex emotions.
The pain in her body didn’t subside, the sinking pain in her lower abdomen growing clearer.
Finally, she recognized the haggard woman’s face—it was Charlotte Sterling.
Evelyn Clayton’s mind was blank, nothing left but instinct.
She reached out her hand, her voice a mere whisper.
"Mom, it hurts... Mom, help me, save my child..."