The Triplets My Ex Never Knew About

Chapter 154: Chapter 154: Estelle Is Still Alive, the Suicide Note Is Fake

Instantly, all eyes fell on Nathaniel Sloan.

Noelle Lockwood’s throat tightened, a flicker of anticipation in her eyes.

’Nathaniel has never doubted that suicide note, not for all these years. He won’t expose me... He won’t, he won’t!’

’As Estelle Lockwood’s ex-husband, his words carry enough weight. As long as Nathaniel says the note is real, then it has to be real!’

Rose Lowell had clearly thought of this too, and she hinted through gritted teeth, "N-Nathaniel, you know best what kind of person Estelle was. The matter is settled. She, she..."

Estelle Lockwood smiled as she looked at Nathaniel Sloan.

’So, what will Mr. Sloan say?’

’He saw the suicide note back then and believed she had written it. So after five years, what will he say now?’

Everyone held their breath, waiting for Nathaniel Sloan’s answer.

When Laura Jennings saw Noelle Lockwood silently shedding tears, she couldn’t help but scowl and snap, "Nathaniel, what is there to hesitate about! This is obviously that bitch Estelle Lockwood’s suicide note. She was just that petty and jealous of Noelle!"

Laura Jennings’s voice grew shriller. "Think about it! Would Noelle lie to you? The Lockwoods are Estelle’s biological parents. Would they play favorites?!"

Noelle Lockwood lowered her gaze, her expression a mask of gentle innocence that concealed the venom in her heart.

’We have years of history together,’ she thought. ’I trust Nathaniel not to expose me. Besides, even he can’t prove that Estelle Lockwood didn’t write this suicide note.’

’And with that fool Laura Jennings running interference for me...’

"As for Young Mr. Kendrick’s question, I feel there is nothing to answer."

Nathaniel Sloan had broken the silence.

Henry Kendrick raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Why is that?"

Noelle Lockwood’s heart raced, and she secretly clenched her fists.

’Why does Nathaniel think there’s nothing to answer? Because... because this IS Estelle Lockwood’s suicide note! The evidence is conclusive, so what is there to talk about?’

’That has to be it, it has to be!’

"Because..."

Nathaniel Sloan’s expression grew somber, his gaze cold and distant. He said, word by word, "Because Estelle is alive. How could there be a suicide note?"

Because Estelle is alive. How could there be a suicide note?

Estelle is alive?

It took the crowd a few seconds to process what that meant.

...Estelle Lockwood is still alive?! Estelle Lockwood isn’t dead?!

If Estelle Lockwood is alive, then she certainly couldn’t have written a suicide note. But Estelle Lockwood has been dead for five years! If Nathaniel Sloan says she’s not dead, then who is this woman?!

Noelle Lockwood’s throat tightened instinctively. "Nathaniel, you were there the day my sister was cremated. You watched her being laid to rest. She, she..."

Rose Lowell also panicked, babbling, "Y-yes, that’s right, Nathaniel! Why would you think Estelle is still alive? Has someone tricked you? Besides... besides, we’re talking about the suicide note right now! Even if... even if Estelle isn’t dead, that doesn’t mean she didn’t write a suicide note!"

Nathaniel Sloan’s eyes were ice-cold. "Since Mrs. Lockwood wants to discuss the suicide note, let’s discuss the suicide note."

Estelle Lockwood raised an eyebrow, curious to see what Nathaniel Sloan was going to say.

Nathaniel Sloan’s expression was calm, but just by standing there, he exuded an intensely oppressive aura.

The man’s voice was cold and clear. "Mrs. Lockwood, when Estelle first returned to the Lockwood family, you scorned her for not being as talented as Noelle. You scorned her for not knowing how to play instruments or paint, and you mocked her poor handwriting."

The crowd was confused. Weren’t they supposed to be discussing the suicide note? Why was Nathaniel Sloan bringing this up?

Estelle Lockwood’s expression flickered, however.

"Mocking her once would have been one thing, but you did so repeatedly. So Estelle came to me for help, asking me to practice handwriting with her."

At these words, Noelle Lockwood knew what Nathaniel Sloan was about to say. Her face fell, and she instinctively moved to stop him, but she was too late—

"The handwriting on the suicide note is indeed very similar to Estelle’s at eighteen. But, Mrs. Lockwood, did you never notice that by twenty, Estelle’s penmanship had become quite elegant?"

The next moment, Luke White brought a letter forward.

It was a letter written by Estelle Lockwood to Nathaniel Sloan.

There was a time Nathaniel Sloan went to the Borealands on a business trip. Cell service was blocked there, so it was impossible to call or text. Estelle had written him a letter then, a letter he had kept.

You could see that the handwriting in the letter was casual—it was clearly Estelle Lockwood’s everyday script.

"Once a person’s handwriting solidifies, it’s very difficult to change. So let me ask: before Estelle Lockwood allegedly ’committed suicide by arson,’ was there any need for her to revert her handwriting to how it looked two years earlier?"

"Never mind whether she could even replicate her handwriting from two years prior—why would it even be necessary?"

Estelle Lockwood froze, her eyes widening slightly as she looked instinctively toward Nathaniel Sloan.

’He actually kept that letter?’

’Back then, after I sent it, I never got a reply. When Nathaniel came back, he never mentioned it. I thought he didn’t care about my letter at all, that he’d just thrown it away while he was on his trip.’

As if struck by a sudden blow, Rose Lowell blurted out, "But—but Estelle could have..."

"We’ve discussed the handwriting. Now let’s discuss her writing habits."

Nathaniel Sloan’s tone was calm, his reasoning clear. "Estelle had a habit of putting a period at the end of every sentence. This so-called suicide note, however, has no period at the very end."

"Writing is a matter of subconscious habit, Mrs. Lockwood. Rather than this being Estelle’s work, I believe that, judging from the writing style, punctuation, and handwriting..."

His eyes sharpened. "This suicide note seems far more like your own handiwork, Mrs. Lockwood."

The room fell silent once again.

What did he mean, the suicide note was Mrs. Lockwood’s handiwork?!

Rose Lowell looked as if she’d been struck by lightning, and a tide of sheer terror washed over her.

Her lips trembled. "Nathaniel, wh-what are you saying? I don’t understand..."

"It’s fine if you don’t. Mrs. Lockwood, you will understand soon enough."

Nathaniel Sloan nodded. A moment later, Liam Sloan suddenly entered, followed by several other people.

The moment Rose Lowell saw them, the color drained from her face.

"You... you all..."

Before Rose Lowell could finish stammering, one of the men swallowed nervously. He stepped forward in terror and, under Liam Sloan’s watchful gaze, had no choice but to speak up.

"I... My name is Brandon Carter, and I’m a lawyer. Five years ago, Ms. Lowell came to me and gave me one million to help her forge a suicide note. Ms. Lowell dictated the contents, and I hired a forger to write it. Once it was done, I was the one who came forward to pin the note on Estelle Lockwood. In truth, Ms. Lowell forced me to do it all!"

"I have evidence—bank transfer records for the million she gave me, and an audio recording of her dictation. Every word I’ve said is the absolute truth!"

At that moment, both the people at the event and the audience in the livestream fell silent.

Everyone stared, dumbfounded, wondering if they had misheard.

Rose Lowell forged the suicide note... If the note was a forgery, then did Estelle Lockwood really commit arson? Did she really murder someone? Did she really go to such lengths to frame Noelle Lockwood out of jealousy?

All of this had been fabricated by Rose Lowell, who then pinned these baseless crimes on her own daughter!

Rose Lowell staggered, utterly panicked. Her vision spun, and she felt as if her whole world was collapsing. "No, that’s not... You’re lying! You’re slandering me!"

Brandon Carter didn’t argue. He simply stepped back after speaking, giving Rose Lowell no time to react before another man stepped forward, trembling, and said:

"My name is Owen Underwood. I’m an obstetrician at Crestfall Hospital. On the night of the fire, Ms. Lowell gave me five hundred thousand..."