Chapter 80

Evelyn Whitmore maintained her composure, offering Nathaniel Grayson a sardonic smile. "What's the matter? Do you think I'm suspicious too?"

Nathaniel's lips curved slightly. "Suspicious of what? That you'd sell yourself to some lowlife as a graduation gift?"

Evelyn blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before rolling her eyes. Is he seriously joking right now? Doesn't he see the situation I'm in? Unless... he doesn't actually suspect me?

She ignored Nathaniel and turned to the officer. "Sir, what do you need from me to cooperate with the investigation?"

The policeman gave her a stern look. "Come with me."

"Evelyn—" Margaret Grayson reached out, gripping Evelyn's arm with concern.

Evelyn offered her a regretful smile. "I'm sorry, Grandma. Looks like I won't be able to take you to dinner tonight."

Margaret paled. "Evelyn, are you really—?"

Without another word, Evelyn followed the officer to the interrogation room at the back.

As she passed Abigail Grayson, the younger woman smirked triumphantly. "Evelyn Whitmore, did you really think coming home and pretending nothing happened would save you? Justice always catches up. You can fool everyone else, but not me!"

Evelyn paused, meeting Abigail's gaze calmly. "Abigail, how are you so certain I'm the escort? Do you have proof? Why don't you share it with the officer?"

A flicker of guilt crossed Abigail's face before she scoffed. "I didn't see it myself, but my instincts never lie. Still denying it? I can't wait to see your face when they confirm everything!"

Evelyn said nothing else. Lowering her head, she followed the officer inside.

Abigail, satisfied with how things were unfolding, grinned. "Nathaniel, Grandma, just wait. The real Evelyn Whitmore is about to be exposed!"

After enduring two shocking incidents in one day, Margaret looked unwell. Lucas Sinclair guided her to a bench in the waiting area before approaching Nathaniel.

"Sir, should I inform Chief Thomas about Miss Evelyn?"

Nathaniel's expression was unreadable, his emotions hidden behind an icy mask.

"Sir?" Lucas repeated when he received no response.

Nathaniel turned and walked outside. Lighting a cigarette with practiced ease, he exhaled slowly. "Leave her be. If she's guilty, she'll face the consequences. If not, the police won't hold her."

Lucas nodded. "Understood."

Abigail was thrilled by her brother's indifference. Perfect. Nathaniel isn't lifting a finger to help her. She's done for!

Ten minutes later, Evelyn emerged from the interrogation room, the previously stern officer now apologizing profusely as he escorted her back.

Abigail's smile faltered. She rushed forward. "Officer, what happened? She is the escort from the Celestial Bloom Hotel, isn't she?"

The officer shook his head. "After thorough verification, Miss Whitmore has no connection to the case you reported."

"What? No connection?!" Abigail's voice rose in disbelief. "Did you even check properly? She's the one! How is she not involved? Did she bribe you in there?"

The officer's expression darkened. "Miss, I can assure you we've apprehended the actual suspect. Miss Whitmore's identification was stolen and used by criminals to book the room. The clothing similarity was coincidental. That's all there is to it."

Abigail opened her mouth to argue, but the sudden blare of a police siren outside cut her off.

Frowning, she turned toward the entrance—then froze.

The woman being escorted in was not Evelyn.

Abigail's face drained of color. "No! That's not her! She's not the escort!"