He paused for a mont before continuing, "The problem is ... sotis it’s not easy to get soone like Mrs. Davenport to actually show up in court."
It would be illegal for a defendant to skip a hearing and ignore court summons three tis.
But people like Addison—those with money and strong legal backing—always find a way to slip through the cracks. She’d probably pull the "health issue" card to avoid showing up.
Whether in dramas or real life, I’ve seen that most powerful people use illness as an excuse to dodge court.
If Addison played that card, I hoped she’d be so gravely ill she’d never recover.
Ethan continued, "Sotis they bribe doctors, or they have lawyers muddle the paperwork. It’s wrong, but if it looks convincing enough, it becos almost impossible to beat."
Lando leaned forward. "We don’t need to trade blows in the dirt. There are cleaner ways," he said. "Mr. Rowell, you can file a motion to compel her attendance."
He added, "If she keeps dodging, the court can hold her in contempt, and if she suddenly claims she’s seriously ill, we’ll request an independent dical evaluation. The court can force it if needed."
Ethan nodded thoughtfully. "That’s the best route. Once the motion is approved, the pressure shifts to her. Most of these people crumble when they realize their usual tricks don’t work anymore."
Lando was the one leading most of the discussion with Ethan instead of , and honestly, that made feel relieved. Having him on my side was like having a wall to lean on when the ground kept shaking.
After all, I wasn’t a legal expert, so there wasn’t much I could contribute beyond listening and trying not to look too nervous.
"Ms. Orszebet," Ethan said, turning his attention to , "once I finish the paperwork, I’ll file the lawsuit imdiately, probably within the next two days."
He paused for a mont before continuing, "However, the process of setting the first hearing date could take up to three weeks. In the anti, I strongly advise you not to have any contact with your family."
He leaned back slightly, his expression serious. "We have to make sure they don’t find out we’re filing this case. If they do, they might start moving assets or tampering with docunts before the court can freeze anything."
I nodded in response. Honestly, I had no interest in eting any of them either.
The last ti I checked, Madeline was finally paying the price for what she’d done. People kept demanding that brands who were still working with her cut ties with her. Apparently, it worked.
These days, it was rare to see anyone defending her, and even if soone did, it was probably just part of her hired "water army."
People said that holding a grudge against her father was one thing, but bullying the child born from his affair was another matter entirely.
In the end, more and more "white knights" began to defend , and since people love following whoever has the most supporters, others soon joined in and beca my white knights as well.
They went after Madeline nonstop on social dia, calling her a wolf in sheep’s clothing and throwing insults until she finally deactivated all her accounts.
I had to admit, it felt good watching that happen. Madeline had spent so much ti mocking Helcia online back then. Seeing her finally get a taste of her own dicine felt like the universe was just evening things out.
After there was nothing left to talk about, Ethan finally left the manor. This ti, he was noticeably more polite to than he’d been during our first eting. Maybe Lando had warned him beforehand or maybe he just felt a bit sorry for .
Either way, I didn’t really care.
"Helcia."
I turned my head when Lando called my na. We were still standing outside, watching as Ethan’s car slowly disappeared through the gate.
"You’re a bit quiet today," Lando said suddenly, catching off guard. "What’s wrong?"
I hesitated for a mont, unsure how to answer. I had to admit ... I had been unusually quiet ever since Lando ca ho. It wasn’t because I wasn’t happy to see him, but lately, I just didn’t have the energy to talk much.
It was perfectly normal, though. Every ti I went through sothing that made my adrenaline spike, my energy would crash right after, like my body was begging to slow down and rest for a bit.
Still, I had a feeling it wasn’t just that. I’d been stressing over which audition to choose next, and to make things worse, I hadn’t had a single bite of dessert to help cope.
I let out a quiet sigh. Honestly, I just wanted sothing sweet. A slice of cake, a cookie, anything. Maybe sugar could fix my problems, but unfortunately, my body was still rejecting them.
Still, it was the first ti soone had ever voiced concern about my silence. Most people didn’t care when I went silent. They usually joked about it instead and said things like "Oh, finally she’s quiet today," or "So you can keep your mouth shut after all."
But Lando didn’t sound like that. He wasn’t teasing or brushing it off. He was genuinely asking, and for so reason, that simple bit of concern made my chest ache in a way I couldn’t explain.
"It’s nothing." I forced a small smile. "I was just thinking about my next audition and ... maybe about the upcoming trial. That’s all. You don’t have to worry."
Lando had helped get through the legal process so far, but still, a small part of couldn’t shake the fear that I might lose in court, and that Addison would once again find a way to crush Helcia’s dignity, or my dignity now.
Lando’s gaze softened, as if he could see every unspoken worry hiding behind my smile. "You won’t lose," he said gently. "I’ll make sure of that."
"I know," I replied, and this ti, my smile ca out a little more real. "I believe you."
Still, I couldn’t quite understand why I felt so tired inside. Maybe ... it had sothing to do with my past identity.
Earlier this afternoon, I stumbled across a few influencers talking about —Helena Moore—in their so-called "unsolved story" videos.
The whole thing left a strange taste in my mouth.
Part of was grateful that there were still people out there questioning what really happened to .
But another part of felt hollow watching it. Seeing my death turned into clickbait, my na used for views and ad money.
Actually, it made everything feel cheap. Like my life, my pain, and even my death were just another story for people to gossip about.
For them, it was content. For , it was a wound that never really healed.
I felt so frustrated—angry, even—and I wanted nothing more than to know who was behind my death. Especially those n, and where they ca from.
However, I had no idea where to start, and every ti I tried to dig deeper, my hands would start trembling so badly that I couldn’t bring myself to keep going.
Deep down, I already had a feeling about who they were. They were probably part of so underground criminal group, one that forced won into making those disgusting videos and then sold them online for profit.
I rembered once catching a glimpse of the website’s na printed on one of their caps. That image was burned into my mind. But even now, no matter how much I wanted answers, I still couldn’t bring myself to type that na into my search bar.
Could I ask Lando to look it up for ?
But how was I supposed to do that? Just suddenly ask him to search for a porn website? That would sound so weird, and honestly, I had no idea how to even start that kind of conversation.
"Do you want to take a walk for a bit?" he asked suddenly, pulling back to reality. "Maybe you’ll feel better after getting so fresh air. I usually walk around the house too whenever I feel ... stressed."
"Okay," I said, without even thinking of refusing. After all, I hadn’t taken my usual evening walk today, so there was no harm in going now.
"Do you want to push you?" I asked, worried he might have trouble since the path outside the manor wasn’t as smooth as the marble floors inside.
"No, I’m fine," Lando replied with a faint smile. "I want to train my arms."
My gaze lingered on his hands for a mont. His hands were already on the wheels, his forearms flexing with every small movent.
His arms looked strong, defined, and ... unfairly hot.
I couldn’t help but imagine how nice it would feel to lean against them, to rest my head on his shoulder and just ... breathe for a while.
The thought sent a warm flush creeping up my neck, and I quickly looked away, pretending to admire the garden like it was the most fascinating thing I’d ever seen.
When I rested my head against his arm at the cinema, it honestly felt so comfortable. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be able to do that again.
God, seriously ... What was wrong with ?
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