Chapter 309

"Evie," she said, her tone dripping with barely concealed disdain as she capped off her lipstick. "To what do I owe the displeasure?"

I swallowed hard, bracing myself for the confrontation. "Scarlett, I... I need to talk to you."

She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. "I'm listening."

"Look, I know you don’t like me right now," I began, my voice edged with an apologetic tone. "And I get it, but I need you to hear me out."

Scarlett's expression remained stoic as she leaned back against the counter. "You're right; I don't like you. What's your point?"

I took a deep breath, collecting my thoughts before continuing. "I'm sorry for barging in like this, but with everything that’s been going on, I need another perspective. Despite everything, I trust you."

Scarlett raised an eyebrow, her patience wearing thin. "Can you just get to the point?"

"I’m trying. I really need you to understand where I’m coming from with all of this because you’re the only person in all of this that I can trust. I think you can help me too," I confessed, my voice tinged with urgency.

Scarlett's eyes flashed with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. "Help you? Please, tell me that you’re joking."

"Please, just listen," I pleaded, desperation creeping into my tone. "I need you to understand why I’m defending him. Timothy is not a killer, Scarlett. He’s not capable of murder, and I think you know that."

She scoffed, dismissing my words. "You don't know that, Evie. You don't know him like I do. Stella had plenty of stories."

I took a step closer, determined to break through her icy exterior. "That's exactly why I need you to listen. I know Timothy has a troubled past, and maybe if I never got to know him, I’d be pointing the finger at him too.”

Scarlett scoffed, crossing her arms. “Oh, please…”

“But now, after being with him, loving him, I believe he’s innocent. I just need to find the evidence for it."

Scarlett rolled her eyes, unimpressed by my attempts at empathy. "Save your psychoanalysis for someone who cares, Evie. I've got better things to do."

I seized the moment, realizing that Scarlett was on the verge of shoving me out of there. "Scarlett, please. I know you're hurting. I know you're angry, but consider this – do you really believe someone like Timothy could commit murder?"

She hesitated, the flicker of doubt crossing her face like a fleeting shadow. "I don't know what to believe anymore."

Emboldened by her uncertainty, I pressed on. "Scarlett, I'm not asking you to forgive him or even like him. But Stella's death deserves justice, and if there's any chance that Timothy is innocent, shouldn't we be open to that possibility and find the true killer?"

Her guard wavered, but she remained stubborn. "I can't just trust him because you say so, Evie."

Desperation pushed me further. "I'll do anything, Scarlett. Anything to ensure that Stella gets the justice she deserves. I know you loved her, and I can't stand by knowing that the wrong person might be accused. We owe it to her memory."

Scarlett's eyes softened, a glimmer of vulnerability peeking through her stoic facade. "Evie, you don't understand. Stella…you—"

I interrupted, sensing a moment of vulnerability that could be the key to unlocking Scarlett's emotions. "I know, Scarlett. I don’t exactly have any reason to find justice for Stella after what she did to me, and I would’ve given anything to have her convicted it before her death.”

For a brief moment, Scarlett winced and looked away. She shoved the lipstick back into her purse and dropped it onto the mini-table beside her. “Evie…”

“And you know what?” I cut her off, “I don't blame you for not trusting my judgement because of it, and I don't hate you for it either. Stella was your sister, and you were protecting her. I get it."

Her composure cracked, and Scarlett's eyes welled up with unshed tears. She lowered her gaze, struggling to maintain her hardened exterior. "You don't understand the guilt I carry, Evie. The things Stella did, the secrets she kept from everyone, including me."

I stepped closer, resting a hand on her shoulder as she shrunk away. "Scarlett, you're not alone in this. We can navigate through this together. I want to help you find the truth about Stella, even if it means facing the ugly parts of her past.”

“I don’t know, Evie,” she said softly, her eyes filling with tears.

“The real killer is out there, and I feel like I’m getting closer to finding them. Can you trust me on this?"

Scarlett broke down, the weight of her emotions overwhelming her. She collapsed into my arms, tears streaming down her face. In that moment of vulnerability, she whispered, "I didn't know what to think anymore. And discovering all the things Stella did before her death, I... I wouldn't have blamed you for hating her. Or me."

Gently, I held Scarlett close, rubbing circles on her back. "I would never resort to murder, Scarlett," I insisted, my voice firm with conviction. "But someone close to us has. I’ll do whatever it takes to solve this, but I need your help."

Scarlett, still wiping away tears, nodded solemnly. "I witnessed some suspicious things before Stella disappeared. I overheard her and my father fighting one night. It was intense, Evie, and it scared me."

Urging her to share more, I asked, "What else, Scarlett? What happened?"

Taking a shaky breath, she continued, "After the fight, Stella came to me. She was frantic, saying that Dad was furious because she'd ruined any chances of our family's legacies merging. Apparently, she messed up some marriage scheme."

My mind raced with questions, but before I could articulate them, Scarlett answered one that had lingered in my thoughts. "Why Timothy? Why was he so important if Andy was the oldest?"

"Mr. Hayes cut Andy off from most of his assets due to his past alcoholism," Scarlett admitted, her voice filled with bitterness. "So, Timothy became the chosen one to carry on the family name and fortune."

As the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, I couldn't help but wonder where Kamran's involvement, especially in snatching up evidence, fit into the convoluted narrative. Before I could voice my question, a knock on the door interrupted the intensity of the moment.

"Are you two done in there?" a voice called from the other side.

Scarlett, still overcome with emotion, excused herself with a curt nod. "I need a moment. You go ahead."

As she left the restroom, I let her go, knowing that our conversation had yielded valuable information. My mind buzzed with newfound details and revelations, painting a clearer picture of the tangled web that surrounded Stella's death and the accusations against Timothy.

Leaving the restroom, I stepped back into the dimly lit hallway, my determination unwavering. The night had taken an interesting turn, and it was far more positive than I could’ve imagined.

After a moment, I rose from the restroom's solitude, a renewed determination guiding my steps. I nearly bumped into the man who’d been waiting outside the restroom, and he handed me a sneer before stomping inside and slamming the door. I was too excited to mind him.

I needed to find Timothy.