Chapter 398

Daniel gently wrapped an arm around Eleanor's shoulder, handing her a tissue. “Come on, Frost Queen,” he teased softly, “You know crying messes up your pretty face.” But Eleanor didn’t even flinch. Her eyes were fixed on Claire, a complicated storm churning inside her chest. Back then, she had to move so quickly, afraid that even a second of hesitation would cost the child her life. She didn’t even dare look at her properly before whisking her away. Since then, she hadn't taken a single risk—no photos, no contact—keeping the secret buried deep. Edith had stayed true to her word; everyone thought the child hadn’t made it. They’d played the part so well. Until a few months ago, when Edith reached out. She hinted that the eldest son might’ve run into the girl and was starting to put things together. And sure enough, that ungrateful son of hers actually came to ask if his daughter had survived after all. So that was the reason behind those strange looks he'd been giving Claire… How had she