After divorce, Ex-wife Revealed Identities

But all was too late now. Eddie wanted to murder him.

The old Evans's heart was broken.

The pain within was sharper than the pain in his body.

Just then, the door of the ward was pushed open.

A tall, beautiful woman stepped in. She looked at him expressionlessly. "Sylvia..." the old Evans called weakly.

Sylvia walked to the bed step by step, lowered her eyes, and looked at the old, dying man on the bed.

Was he really her family?

But why didn't she feel close to him?

Was it because her mother was kicked out of the family by him?

She had mixed feelings.

After a while, she finally spoke. "Is my mother your daughter?”

"Yes... She is." the old Evans nodded. “I am your grandfather.”

"But... Why can't I feel any connection between you and me?" Sylvia smiled mockingly.

"I wanted to ask you the first time I saw you. Is your mother alright?" What the old Evans wanted to know the most was Monica's news. "My dad said she died in a car accident when I was eight years old." Sylvia closed her eyes and reopened them.

She's dead? How come? How could she die so young? She is a genius! It must be my fault. I was too cruel to her..." the old Evans wept silently, laying weakly, trembling like a broken old bellows.

"Monica!"

"My daughter”

hurt so hard that he could

running down. He was like

the old Evans wiped away his tears and looked at

"Yes."

your birthday

"Yes."

what happened. I was so angry that I drove her out of the family. She was stubborn. And she never came back. So, she kept you." the old Evans sighed, "I have been looking for her

her eyes slightly. A thought suddenly flashed in her mind, "So... Otto is not

said helplessly, "Your

heart was pounding. If Otto

Her mind went blank.

sister who died with her mother? Who

didn't dare to think

Why?

was trapped

to solve it, but she

was already two o'clock in the morning when she walked

was like a

make up for you and your mother, I've decided to hand over the

to

couldn't figure

of the

was parked

man, which seemed cold in the night sky. Yet the moment Sylvia

him, tired. "Why are you here?"

him from

reached out to grab her cold hand,

on his shoulder wearily. "I'm kind of

we arrive home." Franklin's deep voice was like fine wine, especially intoxicating in the middle of the

suddenly raised her head, stretched out her other hand,