Chapter 277

As expected, Thea again refused the offer. She couldn't bear to leave Joyce. However, upon returning to their small apartment, Thea realized her worries were unfounded. The apartment already held its warm, familiar atmosphere. An additional presence sat at the dinner table—given Joyce's inability to cook, it could only be Jamie.

Joyce ate enthusiastically, her mouth glistening with oil, and called out to Thea, "Thea, try Officer Miller's cooking! It's delicious. He's not only great at catching bad guys; he's amazing in the kitchen too!" Jamie was, undoubtedly, the ideal homemaker. Joyce, concealing her feelings behind her ravenous appetite, tried to hide the blush on her cheeks by lowering her head over her plate. Thea saw through this immediately.

"It looks delicious," Thea said with a slight smile. "Officer Miller, Joyce is quite straightforward, so I hope you don't mind her directness. Thank you for your help."

Jamie looked at Joyce with fondness. "We're neighbors; it's only natural to help. Miss Maddox seems to enjoy my cooking, and that pleases me." His gaze remained fixed on Joyce. Clearly, there was a mutual attraction. Thea felt a pang of happiness as she quietly slipped back to her room, leaving their laughter and cheerful conversation to accompany her while she worked on her presentation.

Meanwhile, at the hospital, the doctor repeatedly hinted to Emmalie about conserving medical resources. She retaliated by using foundation to paint her face a ghastly pale shade. Determined to feign symptoms of pain, she knew the doctors would find no actual problems. When she received news that Thea was unharmed, Emmalie nearly threw her phone in a fit of rage.

What is it about Thea? How is it that no one can defeat her? she fumed internally.

At that moment, Ivy entered with a lunchbox. Emmalie instantly changed her expression, collapsing onto the bed, her breathing shallow and labored.

"Emmalie" Ivy's heart ached at her frail appearance, the memories hitting too close to home. If only she hadn't been trafficked to that impoverished region all those years ago; maybe Emmalie would be as vibrant as her siblings. This is all Thea's fault, Ivy thought resentfully.

Clenching her teeth, Ivy gently urged Emmalie to drink the soup, her voice soft yet laced with bitterness. "I knew it. Of the four of you, Thea has the coldest heart. Her bad temper is one thing, but you put yourself through so much for her, nearly destroying yourself, and she hasn't even visited the hospital once."

Hearing Ivy's words, Emmalie coughed faintly, her pale face flushing unnaturally as she shook her head. "It's not Thea's fault. It's mine. If I were stronger, you wouldn't have had to endure this hospital stay with me. Sometimes, I truly envy Thea, not just her health, but that she has Nicolas"

Regret glinted in Emmalie's eyes, though she suppressed it.

Ivy's heart twisted with sympathy. "Why would you envy her? She's living the life that rightfully belongs to you, Emmalie. With me here, I swear I'll make sure Thea repays everything she took from you."

Ivy's embrace offered the warmth only a mother could provide, and Emmalie almost succumbed to it. But she reminded herself of her purpose with the Rowland family. She couldn't let her guard down.

Chapter 277 (Continued)

After Ivy left, a caregiver entered to clean up. Emmalie listlessly spooned the chicken soup, unable to stomach the thick layer of grease. Lost in thought, her gaze flashed. Suddenly, she spilled the entire bowl onto herself. Gone was the frail, timid girl she usually presented to the Rowland family.

With a vicious swipe, she slapped the caregiver. "Are you blind? How do you work here? Do you know how expensive my pure silk nightgown is?"

In recent years, she'd become accustomed to a pampered life with the Rowlands. Her delicate skin was far from its previously tanned state. Although the soup was barely warm, it still flushed her fair skin.

"Miss Rowland, I'm so sorry." The caregiver, seemingly humble, quickly dabbed at the mess, her expression apologetic. As she worked, she removed her medical mask.

The face before Emmalie bore an unmistakable resemblance, enough to steal her breath.

"Emmalie," the voice, thick with mockery, whispered in her ear, "have things been too easy for you lately? So much so that you'd dare to strike your own mother?"

Shock silenced her. Emmalie clamped her hand over her mouth, hissing, "Are you insane? How could you appear here? Are you trying to expose me to the Rowlands?"

A chill froze her. Their hauntingly similar eyes locked in a gaze of mutual, icy disdain. Emmalie almost wished she was hallucinating.

Sarah Spencer had vanished from Emmalie's life for years. Emmalie had buried those childhood memories, attempting to erase every trace of that painful past.

"Let them discover me," Sarah said coolly. She effortlessly shrugged off Emmalie's grip and sat in the chair Ivy had vacated. She easily pushed Emmalie's hand away from her lips and sat on the stool Ivy had just occupied. She was used to hard work.

"I went to all that trouble to get you into the Rowland family, thinking you'd actually do something useful for me," she sneered, "but look at you now. Living comfortably enough to forget your own mother. Why should I let you keep Emmalie's dignity and status?" An ominous edge laced her tone. Emmalie's heart raced in panic. Ivy had just left to get hot water. If she returned and saw Sarah, everything Emmalie had worked for would crumble. That was unthinkable. Emmalie forced herself to remain calm, summoning every ounce of patience. "Mother, you gave me life. I could forget everything in this world, but I would never forget my gratitude to you."

Her words struck a chord. Sarah seemed pleased, though she tried to hide it.

"You've been fawning over Ivy too long. Think you can use the same tactics on me?" Sarah scoffed, her skepticism cutting deep. "You really think I'm as naive as she is? That I can't distinguish right from wrong?"

Ivy and Sarah resembled each other, and that resemblance allowed Sarah to place Emmalie with the Rowlands.

Emmalie's childhood memories were fragmented. She remembered Sarah coming home one day with a little girl she'd found. Despite their struggles, Sarah kept the child and even gave her Emmalie's original name, declaring that the girl would be known as Emmalie.

"Winnie Spencer," Sarah said icily, "have you become so comfortable that you've forgotten who you really are?"

Emmalie could never forget. Her real name was Winnie Spencer, an illegitimate child unwanted by her mother. Emmalie had spent countless nights praying, If only I were truly Emmalie, the beloved daughter of the Rowland family. How wonderful that would be. But those wishes were futile.

"So," Sarah's voice broke her reverie, her eyes cold and impatient. "How's the job I gave you progressing?"

Emmalie shook her head, her voice a whisper. "Ivy and Max act like they adore me, but they've never trusted me with anything related to the Rowland Group. Their guard is tighter than ever. Mom, I've truly done all I could."