Chapter 361

Vanessa trembled, her lips colorless from how hard she'd been biting them. She looked like she was holding back something terrible, her voice tight with tension. "It's nothing... I didn't see anything."

Sophia's gaze sharpened with suspicion.

She seized Vanessa's wrist, her grip firm. "Tell us what you saw. We can help."

Vanessa shook her head violently, but her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, making her look utterly wretched.

Eleanor, annoyed by the theatrics, snapped coldly, "Stop this nonsense and speak. No one dares harm anyone under the Whitmore name."

Only then did Vanessa hesitate, her voice barely audible. "I... I saw a woman being dragged into a room by Ethan..."

Her words dissolved into quiet sobs, tears streaking down her cheeks, amplifying her fragile appearance.

Harold's expression darkened instantly. "What kind of ridiculous accusation is this?"

"Enough crying," Sophia said, trying to soothe her. "If this truly happened, Mr. Whitmore will handle it."

No one had expected Ethan to be bold enough to pull such a stunt—especially not within the walls of Whitmore Manor.

Eleanor felt a sharp pain forming behind her temples. She knew her son too well—there was always more to his stories than he let on.

Her gaze instinctively swept across the room.

When she realized Evelyn was nowhere in sight, a cold dread slithered down her spine. Ethan’s earlier words echoed in her mind. "He’s still obsessed with her."

Had he really been reckless enough to act on it in front of everyone?

And why, if Vanessa had seen someone entering a room with Ethan, hadn’t she intervened instead of gathering an audience?

The pieces didn’t fit.

The crowd was already surging toward the main hall, leaving Eleanor no chance to stop them.

Inside the room, Evelyn yanked open the wardrobe door.

Her breath hitched.

Draped inside was a familiar silk scarf—one she hadn’t seen in years.

“Remember this, Evelyn?” Ethan’s voice was soft, almost reverent. “I gave it to you a lifetime ago.”

She did remember.

She had thrown it away the day she severed ties with him.

So why was it here, hanging like some twisted trophy?

A shiver crawled up her spine.

Ethan’s smirk deepened as he watched her confusion unfold.

His voice dropped to a whisper as Ethan stepped closer.

The back of his fingers grazed hers with deliberate slowness.

Evelyn jerked her hand away as if burned.

Even with the windows wide open, the lingering traces of the drug made her head swim.

The door won’t budge. If I don’t get out soon…

"Alexander treats me well, and I care about him. Don’t bring this up again. That scarf—you should get rid of it," she said, her voice sharp as ice. She yanked at the handle once more.

Ethan’s expression twisted, pain flashing in his eyes before they glistened with unshed tears.

"Throw it away? Just like that?"

His voice cracked. "Evelyn, are you trying to erase us completely?"

She shook her head. "The past can’t be erased, but I’ve moved on. You should too, Ethan."

A bitter laugh escaped him. "You’re wasting your time. The lock’s jammed. It won’t open from the inside."

Her breath hitched. Of all the times for this to happen.

"Was it you? Or Vanessa?" Her gaze hardened. "Did you plan this—the drug, the locked door?"

Secret Longing: A Love Reclaimed (Evelyn Carter’s Story) 1/4