Ch. 246: Mr. Edwards’ Unraveled Life chapter 246
Chapter 246
Steven’s expression froze in shock. “How could that be? It’s Norah,” he muttered, his disbelief palpable.
Back then, Steven had liked Norah. He cared about her deeply, so much so that he had rushed back to Craggaville overnight when he thought she needed him.
The assistant glanced at the old newspaper again and frowned, as if trying to reconcile his memory with what he was reading. “I recall you mentioning that you and Norah were classmates, but this survivor was listed as being a grade below you.”
Steven’s shock deepened, his hand trembling as he grabbed the paper for a closer look.
The headline detailed a school tragedy: a murder, several casualties, and a lone survivor.
Steven’s eyes scanned the text over and over, trying to process the revelation. The survivor’s name was indeed Norah—but the grade didn’t match.
“How is this possible?” Steven whispered, as though the newspaper itself had betrayed him. Was it an error? Or had he misunderstood something critical all along?
Steven’s thoughts spiraled. The Norah he knew had always recounted her tragic experience in a way that left no doubt. But now, with this evidence in front of him, everything felt uncertain.
As he stood there, lost in thought, Norah walked into the room. Her soft voice snapped him out of his daze. “Steven, do you need any help? You’ve been quiet for a while now.”
He quickly hid the newspaper under a stack of books and forced a smile. “No, everything’s fine. My assistant will take care of the rest.”
Norah studied him for a moment, noticing his unease. “If it’s inconvenient for us to stay here, Aunt Bonnie and I can leave. We don’t want to impose.”
Steven shook his head firmly. “It’s not that. Don’t overthink it.”
To change the subject, he added, “I was actually thinking we could have dinner together tonight. Does that sound okay?”
Norah nodded. “Of course. Aunt Bonnie loves a lively atmosphere.”
Steven handed the box containing the newspaper to his assistant, who took it without question.
Norah’s eyes lingered on the box for a moment, sensing a strange tension between Steven and his assistant. Still, she decided against pressing the issue.
Steven clapped his hands lightly. “So, dinner. Should we order takeout?”
“I can cook something instead,” Norah offered. “It’s the least I can do since you’re hosting us.”
Steven hesitated but eventually agreed. “Alright, that sounds nice.”
However, his mind remained preoccupied with the newspaper and the puzzle it presented.
Meanwhile, Bonnie lounged on the couch, watching TV. She was calm, though the show airing was ironically covering her own “scandal.”
Norah joined her just as the segment switched to an interview with Bianca.
On screen, Maxine, the reporter, was in Bianca’s hospital room, speaking to her as cameras rolled.
“Ms. Lynch, can you hear me?” Maxine asked, her voice sharp and direct.
Bianca looked frail, pale, and visibly annoyed by the intrusion. “Stop filming. I don’t want to see anyone right now,” she said weakly.
The camera lingered on Bianca’s haggard face, capturing every detail of her apparent misery.
Maxine turned to the audience. “Ms. Lynch is not only deaf but also deeply traumatized. This has severely impacted her career and emotional state. We can only hope the person responsible steps forward and apologizes for their actions.”
Norah grabbed the remote and turned off the TV.
Bonnie frowned. “Hey, I was watching that!”
“You already know how Maxine operates,” Norah said firmly. “She’s clearly twisting the story to make Bianca look like a helpless victim.”
Bonnie chuckled as she popped a sunflower seed into her mouth. “My reputation’s already in the gutter. What’s the harm in watching a little drama?”
Norah folded her arms. “Bianca said reporters weren’t allowed in her room. How did Maxine get in?”
Bonnie shrugged. “Maxine would move mountains for a scoop. But Bianca’s performance is obvious. She’s playing the victim card, milking it for all it’s worth.”
Norah sighed. “Don’t let it get to you. I ordered takeout—your favorite foods. And yes, there’s wine.”
Bonnie brightened at the mention of wine. “Good. I need a drink after all this nonsense.”
But Norah couldn’t shake her unease. She stepped away to make a call.
“Keep an eye on Bianca,” she instructed quietly. “Don’t let her notice, but I need to know if anything strange happens. Report back to me immediately.”
Over at the Edwards mansion, Bianca walked through the lavish grounds, her eyes scanning the perfectly manicured flowers and shrubs. She entered the grand hall and sank onto the plush couch.
“Ms. Lynch,” a maid greeted her politely.
Bianca glanced at the maid but didn’t respond. She preferred being addressed as “Madame,” though she didn’t openly object.
Inside, Bianca felt a mix of triumph and frustration. She had achieved proximity to power but still wasn’t fully satisfied. This wasn’t enough—not yet.