Charlotte paused.

Liam noticed her hesitation. He slowly put down his flatware before looking at her and asking, "Mom, what exactly do you want me to look into?"

Charlotte met his eyes. Her fingers tightened and loosened around the fork and knife unconsciously.

The longer she hesitated, the deeper Liam’s frown became.

Even Bryer had now turned to look at her, waiting for her to speak.

"I ... I want you to look into the kidnapping from seven years ago."

Liam frowned instantly.

Even Bryer’s brows furrowed.

Clara, who had been sitting at the table with them, also stilled. She lifted her gaze to look at her mother.

Charlotte noticed all of them staring at her. And she knew exactly what they were thinking —especially her sons.

However, she didn’t try to explain further. She simply stated what she wanted.

"Check and see if what happened seven years ago was real ... or ..." she paused, her gaze hardening slightly, "... if it was Adelyn behind it."

Her eyes instinctively shifted toward Clara.

She hadn’t thought of this possibility before. But after what Clara had suggested last night ... she couldn’t dismiss it so easily anymore.

Clara immediately reached across the table and held her mother’s hand.

"Mama, why are you still thinking about that?" she said softly, shaking her head as if to ease her. "I only said it without any real basis last night. Don’t doubt Adelyn. Why would she ever do something like that? Staging a kidnapping ... that’s not her. She wouldn’t do that."

Charlotte frowned.

She placed her hand over Clara’s and gently patted it. "Clara, don’t blame yourself for any of this ..." She shook her head, trying to reassure her. "I’m not doubting Adelyn because of you."

"But I also can’t ignore her attitude from yesterday anymore," she continued, her tone growing firmer. "She was acting strange. I just want to know whether what happened back then was real ... or if she did it to make us look like we were at fault."

"But Mom—"

Before Clara could continue, a loud thud echoed across the table.

Smack!

She flinched and turned toward the source—

Bryer.

He had already stood up from his chair, his expression cold and sharp as he glared at Charlotte.

"Mom, are you even serious right now?"

Charlotte was also taken aback.

She knew Bryer wasn’t like Liam. He wasn’t someone who would quietly comply just because she said so.

Still, his reaction this time caught her off guard.

He had never raised his voice at her like this before.

"Bryer ..." she said, her tone hardening. "Watch your attitude. Don’t forget that I’m still your mother."

Bryer frowned.

He didn’t want to be disrespectful. He never had.

But after everything that had happened —he couldn’t stay silent anymore.

Not this time.

"Mom ... I haven’t forgotten anything," he said, his fingers clenching tightly at his sides. "But it seems like you have forgotten something very important."

"Adelyn isn’t some stranger," he continued, his voice steady but firm. "She isn’t someone we don’t know."

His gaze flicked toward Clara before he pointed at her. His finger was aiming at her, but his gaze was still fixed on his mother.

"She is our sister. Just like Clara, she is our sister too —someone we grew up with for more than fifteen years."

"And you think she staged that kidnapping seven years ago?"

His voice tightened.

"How can you even think something like that about her? Don’t you know her at all?"

Charlotte frowned as she listened to him. Her brows drew together, but she steeled herself and replied,

"Bryer, I do know her. But after seeing her yesterday ... I’m no longer sure that I do."

Her expression darkened slightly as she continued,

"Nothing about her yesterday felt familiar. She didn’t seem like the Adelyn we knew at all. And such a drastic change isn’t something that just happens overnight. I—"

"Who said it happened overnight?"

Bryer cut her off midway.

His expression turned even more complicated as he spoke.

He closed his eyes briefly, as if trying to steady himself. To steady the guilt inside him.

When he opened them again, he looked directly at his mother.

"She didn’t change suddenly, Mom. It’s been more than seven years. Have you forgotten that? She has stayed away from us for all these years —alone and apart. Isn’t the change normal?"

Charlotte’s expression tightened.

Yet, the frown on her face remained —stubborn, unwilling to yield.

"It has been seven years," she admitted with a small nod. "But I raised her for more than fifteen years."

Her voice grew firmer.

"How could fifteen years of my upbringing and love be overshadowed by just mere seven? It shouldn’t have changed her this much."

She knew Adelyn had been away from them all these years.

It wasn’t a short time.

But even so ... it was still less than the years she had spent growing up under her care.

How could she accept that the daughter she had raised with love and attention would return as a complete stranger?

And the blame will still fall on her shoulders?

"And what exactly do you expect to remain the same?" Bryer asked, his gaze unwavering.

There was a sharp edge in his voice now —as if he had finally reached his limit.

He paused for a brief moment before continuing,

"Her attitude toward us?"

"Or her ability to forgive us —no matter how deeply we hurt her?"

Charlotte frowned.

"Forgive us?" she repeated, a faint scoff slipping into her tone.

Yes, she had once carried guilt over what happened seven years ago.

But she no longer allowed that guilt to control her thoughts.

"Does she even have the right to blame us for what happened back then ..." she said, her voice hardening, "... when she might have been the one who staged it all?"

———————

Meanwhile —

On the other side, Adelyn had no idea what the Scotts were debating upon.

And even if she knew, she wouldn’t have cared.

Finishing breakfast, she was about to stand up when suddenly a call made her halt. She looked at her phone, and her brows furrowed slightly.