Chapter 192

Evelyn's brows knitted together at the sight of Lucas. "How does he know I'm at the hospital?"

Nathaniel had clearly arranged for her to stay with the Whitmores that morning. Had he put someone on her tail?

Lucas offered a quick explanation. "You're using his phone. The GPS tracker gives away your location."

"I see." Evelyn glanced down at the device in her hand, a prickle of unease creeping up her spine at the thought of being monitored.

He continued, "He knew you called an ambulance but couldn't leave an urgent board meeting. Sent me to check on you instead."

"Just my stepmother got hurt. I'm fine."

"Glad to hear that, Mrs. Grayson."

The formal address made Evelyn stiffen. He'd always called her 'Miss Evelyn' before. When had that changed?

She pushed the thought aside. "Did Nathaniel say where to take me?"

"Just home safely." Lucas's tone suggested last night's kidnapping had left Nathaniel on high alert.

"Let's go then." Evelyn seized the chance to skip the taxi fare. Exhaustion weighed on her, and all she wanted was her bed.

As the car moved, Evelyn propped her chin on her hand, staring blankly at the blur of buildings outside. Her thoughts churned. Sebastian discovering Gregory wasn't her father had upended everything.

If I'm not a Whitmore, then what's my real name? Who's my biological father? Why abandon us? Why would Gregory take in someone else's child? He never wanted me—shipped me off to the countryside like unwanted luggage.

The questions formed an unsolvable riddle in her mind.

By the time they reached the Grayson estate, Evelyn had dozed off.

"Mrs. Grayson?" Lucas's gentle nudge roused her. "We're here."

She blinked sleepily, verified the familiar gates, then unbuckled her seatbelt.

"Wait!" Lucas hurried out and popped the trunk. "Mr. Grayson left something for you."

Evelyn's curiosity piqued. She approached to find three ornate picture frames—her mother's lost paintings from Christopher's collection.

"Nathaniel purchased these for you. Are they the ones you wanted?"

Evelyn's breath caught. "Yes! But how? Christopher said they weren't for sale."

"The Ashfords rely heavily on Grayson business partnerships." Lucas shrugged. "Some favors get prioritized."

Evelyn traced the gilded edges, emotions swelling. The brushstrokes felt like her mother's touch across time.

So this is what he meant by not treating me poorly.