Chapter 213
“No, no… we’re not sure… It’s just that your father and I talked it over…” Rosetta stammered, clearly holding something back.
Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she steeled herself and finally said what she was really thinking. “But no matter what… she’s already getting what she deserves. You refuse to come back to the Windsor family, and now you want to drag her down with you, have her thrown in jail too? What are we supposed to do then?”
Ivy listened to her mother, and as she thought it over, the true meaning behind those words became painfully clear.
“So this is what you really think…” she murmured, her voice low and flat, eyes dull with disappointment. She gave a bitter smile and looked straight at Rosetta. “You think that since I’ve survived and come home, I should just let the past go. That I shouldn’t look for answers, shouldn’t demand the truth, and that as long as the family looks harmonious, everything will be fine. Isn’t that it?”
Rosetta saw the anger on her eldest daughter’s face and looked torn, caught between guilt and fear.
“Ivy… I know you’ve been wronged. You’ve suffered–God knows how much. If it really was Emma, we’ll punish her, we’ll make sure she apologizes. But we can’t let this go public. If people find out, the entire Windsor family’s reputation will be ruined. It’ll affect our business, your brother’s standing, everything!”
Ivy shook her head, her eyes glassy and numb, unable to believe what she was hearing.
So it wasn’t that they didn’t believe her–they just thought the family’s reputation and business interests mattered more than the truth, more than the happiness of their own daughter.
In their minds, even if she’d died, even if they knew for certain that Emma had helped those traffickers, for the sake of the family, for appearances, they’d still do nothing more than scold Emma and hush it up.
At most, a slap on the wrist.
It was like someone pleading for mercy on a murderer’s behalf–what's the point, they’d say, the victim’s already dead, punishing the killer won’t bring them back.
Ivy felt her entire worldview shatter.
How could her own family be so blind, so selfish, so hopelessly wrapped up in appearances?
She was speechless.
The heart that had already been buried by her own family was now dragged out again, just to be battered into ashes.
In the interrogation room.
Emma had been a bundle of nerves since the moment she sat down, fidgeting with her hands, eyes darting around.
Detective Gallagher watched her closely, face grim as he began: “Emma, three years ago, did you make contact with the traffickers? Did you deliberately expose your and Ivy’s whereabouts, giving them the chance to kidnap her?”
“No, never… My sister was taken by those people and abused. She’s not in her right mind–she’s always making wild accusations against me.”
Emma denied everything, clinging to her story with desperate stubbornness.
“Officer, my whole family can vouch for me. She’s not well mentally, she’s always talking nonsense. If you don’t believe me, just ask my mother–she’s right outside.”
Emma’s acting was impeccable; even though she was panicking inside, the lies came easily. She guessed the police would have a hard time finding concrete evidence, and as long as she refused to confess, they’d have nothing on her.
Gallagher’s expression hardened. Suddenly, he slammed his palm on the table. “Emma! Enough lies! The trafficker who kidnapped Ivy has already been arrested. He admitted that three years ago, someone contacted them directly, gave them precise information, and arranged for Ivy to be abducted and sold off in the middle of nowhere.”
“He’s… he’s been caught-” Emma’s composure faltered.
But only for a second. She quickly denied it again, sly as ever. “No, I didn’t… I don’t remember anything. You’re trying to trick me. Ivy must have paid you off. I refuse to answer any more questions. I want a lawyer. Mom! Mom!”
Emma suddenly shrieked, trying to get up and rush out the door.
But the officers were quicker; they pinned her back into her seat before she could get far.
Outside the interrogation room, Rosetta was on the phone with Adkins Windsor.
She spun around at her younger daughter’s cries and made as if to barge inside.
“Stop right there! This is a restricted area–no civilians allowed!” a nearby officer barked.
Rosetta was blocked at the door, frantic and helpless. She hurriedly said into the phone, “Adkins, get the lawyer here–now! We’re in big trouble!”
Ivy sat to the side, watching her mother’s reaction with cold, hollow eyes.
Time slipped by. As the sky outside darkened, Ivy felt as if the gloom was seeping into her soul.
Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and frowned.
Jamison.
She wasn’t in the mood to talk and hung up immediately.
But the call came again.
Rosetta ended her call and turned to Ivy, coming over to plead, “Ivy, why don’t we do this… Let’s settle this quietly. As long as you drop the charges and let Emma come home, we’ll agree to any condition you name, alright?”
Ivy was about to answer when her phone rang once more.
Jamison again.
She seized the excuse to dodge Rosetta’s nagging, got up, and stepped away to answer.
“What is it?” Her tone was sharp and brittle, her mood foul.
On the other end, Jamison stood at Ivy’s front door. He sounded curious. “You’re not home?”
Ivy was startled. “You went to my place?”
“Yeah. You’ve been avoiding me, so I figured I’d come find you myself,” Jamison replied bluntly, his tone suddenly more assertive.
“I’m not home. You should go.”
“Where are you?”
“At the station.”