Chapter 343: The Sculpture Exhibition

Damian shook his head. "There aren't many records from that time, and the exact reason hasn't been found yet. What we know is that the Whites were originally from Snowville. Their ancestors were in the herbal business, but after the reforms, they switched to medical equipment and drug development."

He handed me a stack of documents. "A few of the well-known medical equipment, vaccine, and healthcare companies today are owned by the Whites."

I glanced through the papers. These companies were enormous and frequently mentioned in the media.

"What about the Carlyns?" I asked. Since the Whites' missing daughter was now with the Carlyns, I wondered how that happened.

Damien explained, "The Carlyns were also once a Snowville family, but they moved overseas some time ago."

"Are the families close?"

"On the surface, there's no significant connection. The Whites started with herbs, while the Carlyns came from a family of sculptors—stone and wood carvings were their specialty. Over the years, they've diversified abroad, branching into various industries."

Sculpting? The word instantly brought back memories of the sculpture at the marriage home. Could it be a coincidence?

Carter seemed to catch on to my thoughts. "Don't worry, darling."

Damien added, "By the way, Yael is a passionate stone sculpture enthusiast. He's been preparing for a sculpture exhibition."

"When will it open?"

"We're not sure. The approval has gone through, but the exhibition is still in preparation. No public opening yet."

Carter waved his hand. "Keep looking into it. Have someone keep an eye on the Carlyns. See if any leads come up."

"Got it."

I hadn't gone to school the past couple of days, diving into research on the Whites and the Carlyns. I decided to visit the Sanders again, this time with specific leads, to see if Josh knew anything about the families.

Josh was lounging in a chair, basking in the sunlight. His silver hair gleamed in the light, and he looked like a pitiful, frail old man. No one would guess he was only in his fifties.

Not far away, Kate was busy planting hydrangeas, muttering to herself, "Chloe loved them the most. I've filled the yard with them, and when they bloom, she'll come home." She was digging with her bare hands, her fingers covered in blood. Her mental state seemed fragile, caught between madness and clarity. Josh didn't seem to care. He just watched quietly.

She used to be so beautiful, but in just a few months, her face had wrinkled, her hair was messy, and even her nightgown was dirty. Kate was oblivious to it all, still kneeling there, digging the dirt with her bare hands over and over.

"Chloe, I was wrong. Why don't you ever visit me in my dreams? Are you still upset at how cruel I was to you?" As she dug, she slapped herself hard across the face. "Yes, I deserved it. The way I treated you, I brought the wolves into my home and killed my own children... and you shouldn't have died. I should've been the one to die! Can I trade my life to bring all of you back? Chloe, my sweetheart."

I stood in front of her, and she didn't notice. I pulled out a wet wipe and gently cleaned the dirt and blood from her cheeks. She turned to look at me. In that moment, she saw me as Chloe. She threw herself into my arms, clutching me tightly. "Chloe, you've come home. Have you forgiven me?"

Forgiven? I could never forgive my family for their coldness. The agony of that month showed me the ugliness of human nature. The multiple sides of humanity—even if she regretted it now, it couldn’t erase the pain I had endured. All I could do was not kick her while she was down.

"Mrs. Sander, I'm not Chloe. I'm Zoey. Your daughter is dead. Don't you remember?"

"Zoey?" She looked at my forehead, and the light in her eyes dimmed. "Yes, you're not my daughter. I'm sorry, I mistook you for her."

"It's okay. Why are you planting these flowers?"

She nodded. "My daughter loved hydrangeas. But no matter how beautifully they bloom, she won't be able to see them anymore."

"She will see them," I said softly.

Josh looked at me coldly and snapped, "What do you want now?"

"There's new progress, Mr. Sander. If you have any information, please share it with me. Are the Whites and the Carlyns connected to your family?"

As soon as Josh heard "Carlyns," his expression changed drastically. "I don't know any Carlyns!"

I mentioned the name of Taylor's grandfather. "What about Abe Carlyn? Does that ring a bell?"

"No." I knew his habits. Whenever he didn't want to answer or wanted to avoid the issue, he'd keep rubbing his left thumb against his right thumb.

"Mr. Sander, both the Sanders and the Boltons had suffered great harm. Let me put it bluntly—we're both on someone's hit list. Helping me is helping yourself."

"Mrs. Bolton, I really don't know this person. Sorry, I can't help you." He called over the butler. "I'm not feeling well. Arnold, take Mrs. Bolton out."

I was forcibly ejected from the house. He definitely knew something. At this point, if he refused to tell the truth, there could only be one reason: something had happened between the Sanders and the two families, something extremely damaging to the Sanders. That was why he stayed silent. Did Grandma do something to them back then? If my deduction was true, Anna's real identity could be someone from the Carlyns or the Whites.

On the way back, I kept thinking about it. "Take Copper Avenue," I instructed. They lost track of Anna around here. Could it be that she lived nearby?

"Yes, Mrs. Zoey." The driver took a few turns around the Copper Avenue area. Suddenly, something caught my eye. "Wait, stop the car!"

In front of me was a gallery, with part of the glass windows clearly showing stone sculptures. I opened the door and got out, walking up to the glass windows to peer inside. There were all kinds of sculptures displayed. Damian had said that Yael was preparing for an exhibition; was this his exhibition?

I slowly walked up to a glass display. The sculpture inside was huge—at least nine feet tall—and covered by a black cloth. What could it be? The image of the sculpture at the marriage home flashed in my mind again.

Suddenly, a voice came from behind me. "Zoey, what a coincidence." Hearing Yael's voice made me jump instinctively; my body shuddered in fear. I turned to see his smiling face. "Did I scare you?" He had always appeared kind and warm, but now, knowing about the possible conflict between the Carlyns and the Sanders, I couldn't look at him the same way. The man in front of me might be a demon wearing the skin of a man. He was just better at hiding it than his brother.

I steadied myself. "I was passing by and saw this exhibition. It looked beautiful, so I thought I'd check it out. Yael, what are you doing here?"

He answered openly, "I'm the one organizing this exhibition. I didn't expect you to be so interested. Would you like to come in and take a look?"