Framed by My Husband, Reborn as an Heiress

Laurence didn't answer.

But he took the confession.

That was answer enough.

When the police came to the hospital to take the statement, Madge sat outside, crying.

She cried until Laurence draped his suit jacket over her shoulders.

Through the glass, I watched, and thought of my own coat.

Last month, at the Gilbert family dinner, my mother-in-law made me stand at the door to greet the guests.

The December wind cut down to the bone.

Laurence saw it. He knew.

All he said was, "Mom's getting old. Give her some slack."

Madge looked over at me through her sobs.

There was a flicker of triumph in her eyes she couldn't quite hide.

I lowered my head and signed as I was told.

The officer asked, "At the time of the accident, why were you driving Miss Winfield's car?"

"I borrowed it."

"Why did you leave the scene?"

I paused. "I was scared."

Laurence spoke up beside me. "She called me at the time and said she'd hit someone. I told her not to touch anything, but she lost her head."

I looked up at him.

He'd already smoothed the lie over for me.

Practiced. Calm.

Like he was talking through a contract.

When the officer finished writing, he reminded me I might be detained afterward.

I nodded.

Laurence let out a breath. "The lawyer will handle it. You don't need to worry."

I couldn't help laughing. "What exactly do you think I'm worried about?"

His brow knotted tighter. "Evelyn, don't be snide."

Madge tugged at his sleeve. "Laurence, I'm so grateful Evie's willing to help me. I really am."

"You don't need to thank her."

Laurence didn't even glance at me. "This is what she should do."

What I should do.

Seven years of marriage, and I'd done so many things I should do.

I should get up at three in the morning to make him hangover soup.

I should look after his grandmother, half-paralyzed from a stroke.

I should sell the old house my mother left me when his company's cash flow ran dry.

I should look the other way when his first love came back into the country.

And now I should go to prison for her too.

I handed him the divorce agreement.

"Sign it."

Laurence flipped to the last page. His mouth curled cold when he reached the property split.

"You walk away with nothing?"

"Yes."

"Evelyn. Aren't you tough."

I said nothing.

He picked up the pen, but it hovered, not touching the paper.

Madge bit her lip. "Laurence, are you two really getting divorced because of me? I'll feel guilty for the rest of my life."

The pen stopped.

I looked at her. "Then go turn yourself in."

Madge's tears froze on her face.

Laurence slammed the papers down on the table.

"Evelyn, are you done?"

"No."

"Madge has been through enough. She lost her parents young. I'm the only one who can help her."

I nodded. "My mother died young too."

Laurence went still for a beat.

I smiled. "You forgot, didn't you?"

Of course he had.

In the Gilbert family's version of me, I was an orphan from the fish market.

My mother had raised me selling fish and passed away from illness two years ago.

Except she hadn't died.

She'd only disappeared.

The year I turned fifteen, she hid me in the alley behind the farmers' market and told me not to make a sound.

After that day, I never saw her again.

The people who raised me were the neighbors at the stalls beside hers.

Laurence once told me he didn't care where I came from.

He said, "Evelyn, it's you I love. The person you are."

I believed him back then.

Believed him enough to sell my last house to plug his hole.

After the police left, Laurence took Madge home.

Before he went, he stood in the doorway of the hospital room.

"Rest here for now. I'll send someone for you tomorrow."

"To take me to the police station?"

His face went rigid.

I looked at him. "Laurence, you don't have to act like you care about me."

His throat moved.

"Evelyn, I'll make it up to you."

"How?"

He was quiet for a moment. "When this is over, we'll talk."

"Did you sign the divorce agreement?"

Anger surfaced in his eyes.

"You're not thinking clearly right now."

I picked up the cup from the nightstand and drank a mouthful of cold water.

"Then you should go."

Laurence stared at me for a long time.

At last he said, "Don't come to regret this."

I lay back down on the hospital bed.

My phone screen lit up. A text from an unknown number.

"Miss, your mother is still alive."

I gripped the phone, my breath stopping.

The next text came right on its heels.

"But right now, you can't trust anyone in the Gilbert family."