Chapter 96

Ethan Sullivan's knuckles turned white, veins pulsing faintly at his temples. His eyes burned with a terrifying storm as he stared at the investigation report.

"Find out." His voice was dangerously low. "Why didn't Vincent Lowell report it to the police back then? Why didn't he look for Evelyn?"

Harrison Whitmore's back broke out in a cold sweat. He straightened immediately. "Understood!"

He retreated from the study, barely daring to breathe.

In the hallway, Harrison wiped his forehead. After years by Ethan's side, he'd rarely seen the usually composed man lose control like this.

Ethan always wore a flawless mask—calculating in business, charming in social settings. But now, that facade had shattered completely.

Inside the study, Ethan slammed the report onto the desk. Papers scattered across the floor, revealing a childhood photo of Evelyn.

The little girl in the picture looked timid, her frail frame a stark contrast to the opulence of the Lowell mansion.

Ethan closed his eyes briefly.

He picked up the documents again, fingers trembling.

Sophia Lowell's records showed she'd been doted on since childhood, never experiencing abduction. But Evelyn's file was a knife twisting in his heart.

At seven, Evelyn had gone missing for five days. Yet the Lowells took Brandon on vacation. When Evelyn returned alone—bruised and battered—she was met only with scolding.

"Why didn't you just die out there?"

The words exploded in Ethan's mind. His fist clenched violently, nails digging deep into his palm.

Records showed Evelyn had returned in a daze, prone to screaming fits. The family, unable to tolerate her distress, sent her to a psychiatric hospital.

Ethan's chest heaved. He remembered the flicker of terror in Evelyn's eyes when they first met.

"Was it you...?" he murmured. "That little girl from back then..."

Outside, dark clouds gathered. The rumble of distant thunder signaled an approaching storm.