Chapter 1849:
A chill swept through Carola’s spine. Cold sweat broke across her brow. Her thoughts spiraled. Then, she suddenly recalled something.
“That year…” she murmured.
“After giving birth, I remember I was so weak that I lost consciousness. I only saw my baby the next day. Baker told me the child was too frail and had to be placed in an incubator.”
Everyone in the room turned solemn. The air thickened with tension.
Carola’s family members hadn’t known this before. She had never mentioned fainting after childbirth to them at that time. She had not wanted to make them worry.
Now, with her revelation, the possibility of Baker switching her baby with someone else’s had increased.
The silence cracked as Mose spoke up, his voice taut with fury.
“That explains why Baker altered the paternity test! He was terrified the truth would surface! That vile man… utterly unforgivable!”
Carola sat motionless. Her lips parted, but no words came. Her face had drained of all color.
Galen quickly devised a plan.
“I will send a doctor home with you,” he said, already moving.
“They will collect blood samples from you and Kylee for a paternity test.”
He turned to the others, issuing orders like a commander.
“Meanwhile, I want a full investigation into the circumstances of her delivery. Someone must have seen something.” His tone sharpened.
“Also, I will have someone keep an eye on Baker.”
Carola nodded quickly, clutching the armrest beside her.
Her breath hitched in her chest.
The thought that her own child might have been swapped by Baker was unbearable to her.
The Happer family sat in stunned silence, faces grave, eyes dark with the weight of the situation.
gαℓησν𝒆𝓁s․c𝓸𝗆 brings imagination alive
At this point, it seemed increasingly likely that Kylee was not Carola’s daughter.
If that was the case, then who was Carola’s biological child?
The unspoken question loomed. One face came to their minds. Still, everything hinged on the results of the paternity test. Until then, they had nothing more than speculation.
In the executive reception room of Triumph Consortium.
A middle-aged woman sat stiffly on a cream leather sofa. Her hands clutched her bag tightly, knuckles pale. When Lucas entered, she couldn’t help but tremble slightly with unease.
“M-Mr. Clark… why have you brought me here?” Her voice quivered with apprehension. The idea that someone like Lucas would summon her felt unreal.
Lucas spoke, his voice calm yet commanding.
“Willow Russell,” he said, “does the name Holley Lewis ring any bells?”
The instant Holley’s name was mentioned, a shadow of discomfort crossed Willow’s expression. Her body stiffened noticeably.
