His confession ca crashing down like a thunderclap, leaving her mind blank with disbelief. Everything in her went silent as the shock reverberated in her chest.
"What... did you say?"
Lariette stared at Mr. Eastwood, unable to digest the sudden confession. Each passing second seed to stretch painfully. Her mind refused to believe what her ears had heard.
While her face had grown ashen, he remained composed yet freezingly cold.
"I arranged the exchange," Mr. Eastwood repeated calmly, as though confessing to sothing trivial as misplacing an item, "I bribed the midwife to exchange you and another infant."
Lariette felt as if her world had spunned out of the axis. Her body went cold from head to toe, and every sound muffled as if she was sinking underwater. Tears swelled in her eyes.
"No..." she panted, desperate for air, "No, that’s... That can’t be true."
Mr. Eastwood... He was the man behind everything, really?
But for what? For what reason?
The man’s expression didn’t waver, "You were supposed to grow up privileged and adored by all. But I made sure that didn’t happen."
Lariette forced a question out, "Why? Why did you do sothing so cruel?"
"Cruel?" he gave a dry, bitter laugh, "Perhaps. But it was justice to ."
Her chest constricted, making it harder for her to breathe. She clenched and unclenched her hands, her heartbeat thundered within her. Her entire back was soaked in cold sweat.
"Justice? For what?" she spat out, not understanding what kind of misleading justice he tried to pursue.
Mr. Eastwood hardened his voice, low and cutting like a blade, "For what your parents did to ."
At the ntion of her estranged parents, Lariette’s mind scrambled through every possibility.
"My parents...? What have they done to you? You knew them? Then—"
"They destroyed my life," he interrupted, eyes flashing with suppressed fury and hatred, "Your father and I were once friends. And Deborah... She couldn’t forget him even after he chose your mother."
Lariette frowned at the ntion of an unknown na. As if the haze of her mind receded to clarity, her eyes widened as she recalled sothing.
Mr. Eastwood’s remarks about his love life during his housewarming party echoed in Lariette’s mind[01].
"I was engaged once. Decades ago."
"She left for soone else. I thought I’d move past it. I suppose... I never really did. So, I’m alone until now."
Her throat went dry as she realized the absurdity of this situation. Without having the older man explan more, she roughly guessed his grudge was related to his forr fiancee.
Mr. Eastwood sneered as he took in the look of clarity in Lariette’s eyes. He continued, almost to himself, "I knew Deborah still loved John. I saw the way she looked at him. But I insisted, I knew I could make her forget him. But you know what?"
He leaned forward, eyes dark and gleaming. His breath grew uneven as his composure cracked for the first ti.
"She killed herself the day of your parents’ wedding. I was the one who found her. Cold and bloody in the tub. She had only left a short note. She confessed... that she couldn’t stand and anything else."
Lariette shook her head slowly, tears gathering in her eyes. Mr. Eastwood’s voice continued ringing in the room, every word coated with venom of fury.
Even through her blurry gaze, she could see the deep hatred on his face.
"Only I knew that your damn father rejected her on the surface. But! John sought Deborah in private! She begged... She begged him to give her a rightful place by his side. Even until the end of her life... So, I left. I couldn’t forgive anyone."
Mr. Eastwood sucked in a deep breath. His bloodshot eyes stared at Lariette, as if he wanted to tear her into pieces.
"I returned for the first ti after almost a decade. I thought I’d forget the pain, but how freaking wrong I was. I couldn’t stand to see how beautiful John’s life was."
He sat back as he regained his lost composure. He was almost eerily calm.
"He had the life that should have been mine. A loving wife, a beautiful family of children. So I made sure his happiness would rot."
Lariette’s face was pale as paper. Her chest heaved as she bitterly pointed out, "You took it out on , an innocent child. If you’re not a coward, you would face him head on."
He shrugged, "I don’t care. He raised soone else’s daughter for over a decade while his true child suffered sowhere else. Oh, I was also the one who planned the reveal back then."
An amused yet bitter chuckle slipped from his lips, "I thought I’d get to see John’s regrets when he knew the truth. Oh boy, I was wrong again. He’s more rotten than I expected."
The room went deathly still. Only the snowfall and howling wind dared to speak.
She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Every heartbeat felt like a hamr crushing against her ribs. Despite her piercing heartache, she understood what he ant.
Even after learning she was the biological daughter, neither her father nor her mother welcod her back with warmth.
Lariette would never ask them to forsake Stephanie, who they had raised since infancy. But she hoped that they would also shower her with their love and care.
After almost a decade of disappointnt, she had had enough. She no longer coveted their affection.
Mr. Eastwood’s tone softened, almost mockingly, "You see now why I joined the school, don’t you? I wanted to see how you grew up after being rejected by your parents. Turned out, you’re quite decent."
He had planned to watch her a bit longer, and then decided where to head from there. He hadn’t expected to be ousted this soon because they began to dig deeper.
At tis, he watched her with hidden hatred[02]. At tis, he felt sorry for her not being acknowledged by her own parents.
But his hatred overca everything.
Her voice broke, "You’re sick..."
"Maybe," he said flatly, shrugging, "But I never regretted it. Not once."
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Reference:
1 - 413
2 - 235
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