Chapter 317

Timothy stared at me, his eyes betraying a tumult of emotions – disbelief, frustration, and an anger that took me back the more I stared back at him. I waited patiently for his reply, but it didn’t seem like he had anything positive.

"I don't believe this," Timothy muttered, his voice a low rumble that echoed through the silence. "You promised, Evie."

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his disappointment pressing down on me. "Timothy, let me explain. I couldn't just sit idly by—"

"Why did you break your promise?" His words cut through the air like a knife. "You said you'd stay out of this for your own safety."

The accusation hung between us, a bitter truth that I hadn't anticipated. I took a step closer, my eyes pleading for him to understand. "Timothy, I had to. I found something, something important. I couldn't just ignore it."

"What could possibly be more important than keeping your promise to me?" Timothy's frustration flared, and I could see the storm brewing in his eyes.

I sighed, my own frustration bubbling to the surface. "Timothy, I made progress. I made an audio recording that might change everything. Just listen, and you'll understand."

I handed him the phone, the recording ready to unravel the mysteries that lingered in the shadows. As he pressed play, the room filled with Andy's voice, a broken confession that laid bare the chaos of that fateful night. Timothy's expression shifted from frustration to bewilderment, then to a brewing storm of betrayal.

"Did Andy... did he let me take the blame for Stella's death?" Timothy's voice wavered, a hint of hurt lingering beneath the anger.

I shook my head, my own confusion mirrored in his eyes. "I don't know, Timothy. It's complicated, and I'm still trying to piece everything together. But I don't think Andy could have done it. There's something else, something we're missing."

His gaze bore into mine, the betrayal turning to a simmering anger. "You went against your word, Evie. You promised to stay out of it."

"I had to, Timothy! I couldn't let the truth slip through my fingers. I needed to find answers, not just for me but for you, for Stella," I pleaded, desperation creeping into my voice.

"That doesn't excuse breaking your promise," he retorted, his jaw clenched. "I trusted you, Evie. I trusted you stay careful."

My frustration bubbled over. "I'm trying to help you! Don't you see that? I didn't break my promise to betray you. I did it because I couldn't stand by while you suffered, while you were falsely accused."

Timothy paced the room, his frustration now a tangible force in the air. "It doesn't matter. A promise is a promise. You should have stayed out of it."

"Timothy, I—" I began, my voice pleading for understanding.

"No, Evie," he interrupted, the distance between us growing. "You couldn’t just trust me on this? After all that’s happened to you, you still keep pushing!"

My heart sank, the gravity of his words settling like a stone in my chest. "Timothy, please. You can trust me. We can figure this out together."

He turned to face me, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and betrayal. "You went back on your word. How can I trust you now?"

The silence stretched, a chasm widening between us. The truth hung heavy in the air – a broken promise, a wounded trust. I felt the sting of his words and tears pricked my eyes.

"Timothy," I pleaded, my voice softening, "I can't undo what's done. But I need you to believe that everything I've done, I did to help you. I couldn't watch you suffer."

He shook his head, the frustration etched in his features. "It doesn't change the fact that you went against your word, Evie."

"Maybe I did," I admitted, a heaviness settling in my chest. "But I need you to understand that I'm on your side. I want to prove your innocence, and I won't stop until I do."

"Evie, you can't keep digging into this. It'll only make things worse!" Timothy snapped. “How many time do I have to tell you?”

"Make things worse? How can they get any worse?" I shot back, my voice edged with frustration. "You have one foot in a prison cell right now, Tim. Sorry, if I want to help!"

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration matching mine. "Help me? You're only making it more complicated."

"Is that what this is about? Blaming me for your arrest?" I demanded, the anger building within me. "I did everything I could to clear your name."

Timothy's eyes widened in surprise. "No, Evie, I don't blame you for that. It's just—"

"Just what, Timothy? You're angry because I broke my promise? You think I betrayed you?" The words spilled from my lips, laced with frustration and hurt.

He took a step toward me, his expression softening. "Evie, it's not about blame. It's about keeping you safe."

I scoffed, taking a step back. "Safe? I don't need protection, Timothy. I need the truth."

"Evie, please," he pleaded, reaching out as if to comfort me.

I pushed his hand away, a surge of anger pulsing through me. "Don't touch me! If you don't want my help, fine. I'll stop. I'll give up."

His eyes widened in shock. "Evie, don't say that. I just want you to be safe."

"Safe?" I shouted, the frustration reaching its peak. "You think I care about my safety right now? I'm trying to save you, and all you can think about is keeping me safe. I can't do this!”

“Evie, wait!” he reached out, but I was already marching toward the door and snatching my keys off the hook.

As I stormed out into the hall, I could hear Timothy calling after me. But the echoes of his pleas were drowned out by the onset of fresh tears. If I could help him anymore, I didn’t know what else to do with myself.

In the confines of my car, I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white. The engine roared to life, carrying me away from a hopeless situation.

Dr. Morrison's office appeared on the horizon soon enough. As I parked the car, my hands trembled, and I wondered what I would even say. The receptionist at the front desk regarded me with a cold indifference as I approached.

"I need to see Dr. Morrison. It's urgent," I pleaded, wiping my face on my shirt sleeves.

She glanced at the schedule, her tone dismissive. "Dr. Morrison is booked for the day. You'll have to schedule an appointment."

"I can't wait. Please, it's important," I begged, my nerves overwhelming me.

"Sorry, there's nothing I can do," she replied, her eyes narrowing.

Defeated, I turned away, my body curling into itself. Just as I reached the exit, a familiar voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Evie? Is everything okay?"

I turned to see Dr. Morrison emerging from her office, concern etched across her features. Relief flooded through me.

"I... I need to talk to you," I stammered, my voice on the verge of breaking.

Dr. Morrison assessed the urgency in my eyes and nodded. "Come inside. We can talk for an hour."