Chapter 490

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick before boarding the plane?"

Evelyn Carter's lashes fluttered as she met his gaze directly. "Why were you in economy class?"

"I went straight there. No one would refuse to switch seats with me."

"Didn't Lydia ask where you were going?"

"I said I had business. She wouldn't pry."

Evelyn frowned.

A twenty-three-year-old girl, no matter how sheltered, should have some sense of caution.

If there were more men like Simon Stapleton and Peter Harrison in this world, Lydia would be easy prey.

The sudden ring of her phone shattered the silence.

Evelyn reached for it, but her left hand was uncooperative.

Alexander Hamilton picked it up first.

"Who is it?"

Her heart skipped a beat, fearing it might be Gregory Wilson.

"Uncle Anthony," Alexander answered calmly.

It was Anthony Taylor.

Evelyn exhaled in relief.

Alexander listened quietly, occasionally murmuring an acknowledgment, giving no hint of the conversation's content.

The call ended quickly.

"Don't worry. I'm here," he said, setting the phone down without explanation.

"Did you tell him I'm sick?"

"He called last night while you were asleep. Not answering would've worried him more."

"Does he know you came to the summit with me?"

Alexander's expression shifted subtly. "It was the other Uncle Anthony."

Evelyn's breath caught.

Andrew Anderson.

Her father, who erupted in fury at the mere mention of Alexander's name.

"Did he yell at you?"

Alexander showed her the call log.

One hour and forty-two minutes.

"He was remarkably restrained," he said evenly. "With his daughter sick and only me by her side, he had no choice but to hold back."

"That's just how my dad is."

"I know." Alexander studied her. "Want to get up?"

Evelyn shook her head and lay back. "He wouldn't call in the middle of the night without reason. Is it about the house? Or Peter?"

"Neither." Alexander pressed a firm hand on her shoulder as she tried to sit up. "Emily was in a car accident after returning from summer camp. Your father wants you to pull some strings at the hospital."

"An accident?!" Evelyn struggled violently. "How bad is it? Where is she—"

"Listen first." Alexander held her steady.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Her voice cracked, her head throbbing. "And you were feeding me apples..."

She shoved at him, yanking the IV line until it swayed.

"Let go!"

Alexander clenched his jaw, suppressing his irritation. "Calm down. Emily's fine."

"A hit-and-run with an electric scooter. A bystander took her to the hospital."

"An electric scooter?" Evelyn's body relaxed momentarily before tensing again. "If it's minor, why call in the middle of the night?"

"She has bruises that need time to heal. They want a good doctor to minimize scarring."

"I'll contact the plastic surgery department—"

"It's already handled."

Evelyn felt a sliver of relief.

But the unease in her chest only grew stronger.

"Did they catch the driver?"

"Not yet. But there's surveillance footage at the intersection."

"What did the police say?"

"Preliminary assessment says it was an accident."

Evelyn scoffed. "Do you believe that?"

Alexander took her icy hand. "No."

"Neither do I."