Chapter 240 Cornered

Chapter 240: Chapter 240 Cornered

Laurel called over a nurse and requested that a trusted security officer be summoned. She wanted Vera’s account recorded properly, with the exact words she remembered, rather than allowing fear or anger to reshape the testimony later.

While they waited, Chris leaned closer to Laurel and lowered his voice. "You should sit down," he murmured. "You’re starting to look worse."

Laurel glanced at him. "I can’t, this is too important."

"I can see that," Chris replied. "But you don’t need to stand to listen."

She almost argued, then she noticed that her legs were trembling faintly. Annoyed by her own weakness, she returned to the bench.

Seeing that she obeyed him, he felt some of the tension in his chest ease. He had been worried she would push herself until she collapsed, particularly after learning that someone within her own family had helped endanger Grandpa Wayne.

Yet he also understood why she couldn’t simply walk away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Somewhere else in the fortress, Margaret was growing increasingly irritated by the reports arriving at her quarters.

Grandpa Wayne’s condition had improved. Laurel had returned. And the authority Margaret had fought so hard to obtain was slipping away faster than she could consolidate it.

She didn’t have to face the stubborn mutt Rowan, but the woman who had made her life fall apart. The woman who constantly reminded her of her own failure. Her fist clenched together, her nails digging into her skin.

’You should have never come back Laurel. You should have died out there... Now I have to do the dirty work.’ She thought inwardly.

She stood beside the window, listening as a subordinate explained that the medical sector had begun collecting records concerning Grandpa’s treatment.

"Who authorized that?" Margaret demanded, turning sharply.

"Commander Laurel, Madam," the subordinate replied, visibly uncomfortable. "The medical staff are following her instructions."

Margaret’s fingers tightened around the edge of the windowsill. ’That wretched girl. She hasn’t even rested after returning, yet she’s already interfering in everything.’

She had expected Laurel to be occupied with the injured children and the damage caused by the monster attack since she managed to come back alive. Instead, Laurel had apparently found enough time to investigate Grandpa’s illness.

"Has my father awakened?" Margaret asked.

"Not yet, Madam. But the doctors believe he may recover."

Margaret dismissed the subordinate with a wave of her hand, waiting until the door closed before allowing her expression to darken.

Grandpa’s survival was becoming a serious problem. If he recovered enough to speak, he would undoubtedly demand explanations for the decisions she had made in his absence. Worse, Laurel might discover that his illness had never been an unfortunate accident.

I should have ensured there was no possibility of him recovering.

The thought came so naturally that Margaret barely recognized how far she had strayed from the daughter who once sought her father’s approval.

A knock interrupted her thoughts.

Felicia entered without waiting for permission, her expression tense.

"Aunt Margaret, have you heard about Grandpa?" she asked.

"Of course I’ve heard," Margaret snapped. "Lower your voice."

Felicia closed the door hurriedly. "What are we going to do? Laurel is asking questions, and the doctors are saying Grandpa was poisoned."

Margaret turned towards her slowly. "Then we continue insisting that Enzo was responsible. He was present when Father collapsed."

"But Laurel won’t believe that without evidence," Felicia replied, wringing her hands. "And Vera has been acting strangely since she heard Grandpa might recover. What if she tattles on us? What if we are found guilty? Aunt Margaret I can’t afford to be on the bad side of Alexander and our parents." Felicia said worriedly.

Margaret’s eyes narrowed. "Where is Vera?"

Felicia hesitated. "I heard she went to the medical sector."

For the first time that evening, Margaret felt genuine unease.

That foolish girl. She was always the weakest among us.

She remembered Vera’s objections during their earlier conversation and the reluctance with which she had finally agreed. Fear had made Vera obedient then, but guilt could make people dangerously unpredictable.

Margaret moved towards the door. "Find her," she instructed Felicia. "And make sure she doesn’t speak to Laurel or Alexander alone."

Felicia stared at her. "Aunt Margaret, what if she already has?"

Margaret stopped. The silence that followed frightened Felicia more than an angry response would have.

"If Vera has forgotten where her loyalties belong," Margaret said at last, her voice cold, "then we’ll have to remind her."

~~~~~~

Back at the medical sector, Vera had just finished giving her initial statement when Laurel received word that the requested security officer had arrived.

Laurel instructed him to keep Vera under discreet protection until the investigation progressed. She wasn’t prepared to declare Vera innocent, but she understood that Margaret might become dangerous if she discovered the confession.

Vera looked at her uncertainly. "You’re protecting me?"

"I’m making sure you remain available to tell the truth," Laurel answered. "And that nobody gets the opportunity to silence you."

Vera lowered her gaze, unable to decide whether she felt relieved or ashamed.

Chris watched as the officer escorted her away. When he turned back, Laurel was staring towards Grandpa Wayne’s ward, her expression troubled.

"You’re thinking about what will happen when he wakes up," Chris observed.

Laurel nodded slowly. "He’s going to learn that his own family planned to take advantage of him. I don’t know what that will do to him."

Chris considered her words before answering. "You can’t protect him from every painful truth, Laurel."

"I know," she replied quietly. "But I wish we didn’t have to tell him."

Chris said nothing for a moment. Then he gently pushed the remaining bread towards her.

"Finish this first," he said. "You can decide how to tell him when he’s awake."

Laurel looked at the bread, then at Chris, and despite the heaviness in her heart, she found herself not totally alone.

Meanwhile, beyond the medical sector, Margaret was already searching for Vera.

She had sent three people to find Vera, yet none had returned with the answer she wanted. She paced across her room, occasionally stopping to glance at the door, while Felicia sat on the couch watching her with growing unease. Outside, the fortress was still recovering from the monster attack, and the distant sounds of repair work only made Margaret more conscious of how little control she now possessed.

"Aunt Margaret, perhaps Vera is still visiting Grandpa," Felicia suggested cautiously. "She was very worried about him."

Margaret stopped pacing and turned towards her. "That is precisely what concerns me. Your sister has always been sentimental. The moment someone starts crying in front of her, she forgets everything else."

Felicia lowered her eyes, remembering Vera’s objections when Margaret first proposed removing Grandpa Wayne from authority. At the time, she had dismissed those objections as weakness. Now, with Laurel back and Grandpa’s condition improving, Vera’s reluctance seemed far more dangerous.

If Vera tells Laurel about that conversation, she’ll drag me into it too. But Aunt Margaret promised we wouldn’t have to do anything ourselves. She better not drag me into this.

"Even if Vera says something, she doesn’t have proof that you poisoned Grandpa," Felicia murmured.

Margaret’s gaze sharpened. "And why would she need proof if Laurel is already looking for an excuse to destroy us?"

Felicia wanted to argue that Grandpa had nearly died and that Laurel had every reason to investigate, but she swallowed the words. She had begun to fear Margaret’s temper, particularly since the battle had exposed how readily her aunt sacrificed other people to protect her authority.

Before either could speak again, a knock sounded at the door. Margaret immediately straightened, expecting news of Vera, but the soldier who entered carried a different message.

"Madam Margaret," he reported, "Commander Laurel has ordered the preservation of the medical records concerning the patriarch. The staff has also been instructed to provide details of everyone who handled his meals and medication."

Margaret’s expression remained composed, although her nails dug painfully into her palm.

"Very well," she replied. "You may leave."

Once the door closed, Felicia looked towards her anxiously. "Aunt Margaret, what are we going to do?"

Margaret walked back to the window, staring at the damaged structures beyond the courtyard.

Laurel thinks she can corner me with a few medical records. That village rat has no idea how many years I’ve spent protecting my position in this family.

But strangely, the thought brought little comfort.