Without waiting for a reply, she glanced toward the side hall and turned to her caretaker. “It’s quieter in there. Wheel me inside.”
The servant didn’t dare push back. “I’ll let Miss Pearson know of your presence as soon as she returns.”
“Much appreciated.”
The side hall, as expected, was far more peaceful.
Linda turned to her caretaker. “Wait outside for a bit. I need to speak with Hadley privately. I’ll call you when I’m ready.”
“Understood.” The caretaker gave a nod and stepped out.
Left alone, Linda sat quietly, waiting.
That same servant soon returned with a tray of refreshments, as they usually did when guests were present. “Please help yourself, Miss Harris…” This update is available on f?ndnovel.net
“Thanks,” Linda responded, her tone even.
“I’ll let you be,” the servant added, placing the coffee down before leaving.
Lifting the cup, Linda glanced around the room. Her attention drifted to a nearby round table stacked with gift bags and boxes.
She placed the cup back on its saucer and wheeled herself over.
As someone who had once been a well-known actress and a senior to Hadley, she instantly recognized the items as fan offerings.
She reached into one of the bags, pulled it open, and, after a quick look inside, gave a small, bitter laugh.
“Just as I figured…” Her voice was quiet, edged with scorn. “Funny how things have changed. You’re flying high now, Hadley.”
Instead of returning the bag to its spot properly, she carelessly tossed it back. The motion knocked a box from the edge of the table, and it crashed onto the floor with a loud thump.
The lid of the box slipped off, and its contents scattered across the floor. It was the same package Ayla had bribed someone to deliver to Chelsey on set.
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“Tsk.”
Irritated, Linda gripped the armrest of her wheelchair and leaned forward, struggling to gather the mess.
“A handcrafted coin pouch? Just some cheap little trinket…” She scoffed, unimpressed—until something else caught her eye.
“What’s this?”
Near her foot was a piece of paper, half-folded and wedged between the scattered items. Linda picked it up.
It was a standard A4 sheet, typed in a plain, no-nonsense font.
That didn’t matter. What did was the name printed near the top—”Mr. Scott”.
Mr. Scott… was that Eric?
Her heart skipped.
She instinctively glanced toward the door to make sure no one was coming, and then held her breath as she unfolded the page.
Bold, awkward letters filled the sheet. “Hadley, I lied to you about what happened between me and Mr. Scott. Nothing ever happened between us. I did want to be with him—so when we were filming on location and he came to visit you, I played dirty. But it didn’t work. That night, you were the one who slept with him. If you think about it, you’ll know I’m telling the truth. I lied. That was my fault. Please forgive me. Help me explain it to Mr. Scott, will you?” Ayla’s name was at the bottom of the note.
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