Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Governor’s Wife, His beautiful ruin: Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

Evelyn I drove too fast, running two red lights, my hands locked on the wheel. The diner was on the edge of town, the kind of place truckers stopped at for bad coffee and greasy eggs. When I pulled into the parking lot, I spotted her car immediately. Back corner. Engine running. I parked next to her and got out. Diana was slumped over the steering wheel, her whole body shaking. I knocked on the window and she jumped, her head snapping up. When she saw me, her face crumpled and she unlocked the door. I opened it and crouched down beside her. Her hands were covered in cuts. Fresh ones. Blood smeared across her palms, dried under her nails. Her shirt was torn at the shoulder. Mascara streaked down her face in black rivers. “What happened?” I asked. She tried to speak but nothing came out except a choked sob. “Diana. Look at me.” She did, her eyes wide and red and terrified. “Tell me what happened.” She took a shaky breath. “After I sent you those pictures, I went hom

Evelyn The church was already full when we arrived. Alfred had insisted on being late. Late enough that heads would turn when we walked in and enough for the cameras outside to catch us at the perfect angle, grieving employers paying respects to a loyal employee’s family. I wore black. A dress I’d bought years ago for someone else’s funeral. Elegant. Simple. I’d done my makeup carefully that morning, sitting at the vanity for longer than necessary, fixing my hair, making sure every strand was in place, making sure I looked put together even though I’d barely slept three hours. Every time I’d closed my eyes, I’d heard gunshots. Heard Sam scream. Heard my own footsteps running, running, running. Alfred walked beside me in his best suit, the one he wore for important occasions, high-profile events. His hand rested on my lower back, guiding me up the church steps like I needed guidance, like I was fragile. Reporters lined the sidewalk, cameras clicking in rapid succession. I kept m

Evelyn The police station looked the same as it always had. Same gray walls. Same fluorescent lights that made everyone look half-dead. Same smell of burnt coffee and industrial cleaner that clung to everything. I’d been here dozens of times over the years. Representing clients. Sitting across from detectives in interrogation rooms, watching them try to break people down with leading questions and manufactured urgency. I knew every trick. Every tactic. Every psychological game they played. But I’d never been on this side of the table before. A uniformed officer led me down a long corridor, past holding cells and interview rooms with small windows in the doors. We stopped at the last one on the left. He opened the door and gestured for me to go in. “Someone will be with you shortly,” he said. I walked in. The room was exactly what I expected. Small. Table bolted to the floor. Three chairs. One-way mirror taking up most of the far wall. Camera mounted in the corner, red light

Evelyn Theo was already walking toward me before I could decide whether to turn around and leave. I watched him move through the office, weaving between desks and clusters of people, his eyes never leaving mine. My pulse kicked up. I told myself it was just nerves. Just the weight of everything that had happened in the last seventy-two hours pressing down on me. But I knew that was a lie. He stopped a few feet away, close enough that I could smell his cologne, faint and clean, the same scent that had clung to my skin after I left his house. The same scent I’d tried to scrub off in the shower before climbing into bed next to Alfred. “Can we talk?” he asked quietly. I glanced around the office. People were busy, phones ringing, conversations overlapping, but I could already feel eyes drifting our way. Rachel watching from her desk. Marcus glancing up from his laptop. “Not here,” I said. He nodded. “Outside?” We walked out together, keeping a distance between us, profes

Evelyn “If you were a good mother, would I need to tell you?” Grace shot back. “A good mother would’ve known. Would’ve been there. Would’ve answered when her son needed her.” My hands clenched into fists. “You had no right…” “I had every right. Someone needed to take care of him since you clearly weren’t going to.” “That’s not fair.” “Isn’t it? Look at yourself, Evelyn. You’re never here. When you are here, you’re distant. Distracted. You don’t talk to your children. You don’t ask about their lives. Nathan is sick and you didn’t even know he was home.” “Because no one told me!” “You shouldn’t need to be told!” Grace’s voice rose, sharp and cutting. “You should know. You should be present. You should care enough to notice when your own child is suffering.” Tears burned behind my eyes. I blinked them back, refusing to let her see me cry. Nathan still hadn’t looked at me. Just stood there, pale and exhausted, like he wanted to disappear. “Nathan,” I said softly. “Baby,