Chapter 447

According to Nora, the Whitaker family knew that “it was her who got hurt,” and this information could only have been disclosed by Isabelle herself. Just as I was thinking, Lenora called again, this time avoiding Freya’s call. Her voice was lowered, and she spoke cautiously.

“Ophelia, I don’t believe it was you who did it, and even if it was, she must have done something wrong first!” Lenora said without hesitation. She was somewhat worried and anxious. “Don’t come, my parents might not believe you. I’ll secretly call my grandmother—”

“Who was in the hospital?” Ophelia detected something unusual.

“Grandpa, my parents, and my brother, except for Grandma, were all there.”

Upon hearing this response, Ophelia almost burst out laughing. How ironic it was that the entire Whitaker family was present, except for her beloved grandmother! She immediately became certain in her heart that Isabelle was once again seeking death. Lenora was still worried, persuading her not to go, afraid that she would be mistreated.

Ophelia, however, said, “Don’t worry, I know what to do. Tell Aunt, went over immediately.” She hung up the phone, just as Winford came over and heard the last sentence. His deep brows furrowed slightly. “Past? Where did it go?”

Seeing him, Ophelia’s eyes lit up, and she immediately wrapped her arms around his waist. “Isabelle got hurt and went to the hospital. I told the Whitaker family that I hurt her, and now I need to go and apologize. Honey, will you come with me?”

Did Isabelle have someone to support her? It’s as if she had no one to rely on! When Winford heard what she was saying, his eyes suddenly turned cold. Upon hearing her final request, he coldly said, “Fine.”

Half an hour later. Hospital. Isabelle’s ward. Isabelle was half lying on the hospital bed. She had a pale face, with a bandage wrapped around her forehead. Her left arm was completely exposed, with a horrifying abrasion on the palm and a section of the forearm, as if she had been forcefully pushed to the ground and thrown.

Freya was sitting by the bedside, looking at her injury with a mix of pain and resentment.

“I knew she hated Isabelle, thinking that Isabelle had stolen her things, but wasn’t all of this because of her own incompetence?!”

“How could they give the position of the heir to Isabelle when she turned out to be such a waste?!”

Beside them, Shaun stood with a cane, his face solemn. Richard furrowed his brow and looked at Isabelle’s miserable state, also revealing his disapproval towards Ophelia. Xander had a calm expression on his face, playing with a lighter in one hand and the other hand tucked in his pocket. He leaned against the windowsill, pursing his thin lips and remained silent.

Lenora was quite annoyed. She looked at her family and puffed her cheeks, whispering, “It couldn’t have been Ophelia; Ophelia is not that kind of person!”

“It wasn’t her who did it; could it be Isabelle herself who fell?” Freya refuted her daughter.

Lenora reluctantly continued to argue, “If it was really Ophelia who did it, there must be a reason; otherwise, why would she randomly attack someone?”

“What’s the reason? Are you trying to say that Isabelle provoked her first? What kind of person is Isabelle, what kind of person is she?!”

Thinking of her troublemaking and useless niece, Freya’s face darkened even more.

“Nora, I know you were longing for the past, but you have to remember who grew up with you!”