Chapter 509

In that moment, Marguerite struggled to steady her emotions. She had just discovered that the mother and son she had helped years ago were none other than Frederick and Jocelyn. How had she failed to recognize them all this time?

What touched her most was the realization that her small act of kindness, something she thought of as an inconsequential gesture, had stayed with Frederick for so long.

“When did you know that the girl, the one you were looking for, was me?” she asked.

His gaze turned distant, as if he were speaking of someone else’s life. “Three years ago, the day we fell apart.”

It was the same day her grandmother was laid to rest-the day Frederick had intended to confess his feelings to her!

Marguerite cursed the timing of her knowledge.

Had she known earlier that Frederick had been searching for her, had she known of his intentions, she would never have gone to the Winston estate to meet Maurice.

identity of the mysterious man from her past, it

wanted to be with Frederick, even if it meant fleeing with him, far

her regrets were now a burden

as she spoke, “Why didn’t you tell me that day?”

the Winston estate to tell you everything,”

just to acknowledge the debt of a

she was the woman from that passionate night-a question left unanswered as the woman’s face captured

voice his doubts, Marguerite would reveal something far more consequential-something that would

last grasp at hope; if the child wasn’t his, then the only other possibility

believing she must’ve been manipulated

secret.

he was left to face

she held in his heart, and perhaps that

her eyes brimming with tears and sincerity, she asked, “Do you still hate

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