Chapter 173

At the Sterling mansion, Evelyn Hartley strode through the grand foyer and headed straight for Grace Monroe’s bedroom.

"Evelyn, you came..." Grace’s voice was barely a whisper as she blinked her eyes open weakly. Her face was drained of color, her lips dry, and her breathing shallow.

Evelyn moved to the bedside, pressing the back of her hand against Grace’s forehead. The heat radiating from her skin confirmed her suspicions.

"You’re burning up," Evelyn murmured.

"So that’s why I feel so lightheaded," Grace rasped, her fingers trembling against the sheets.

"Just lie still," Evelyn instructed.

After adjusting Grace’s pillows, she stepped out briefly to retrieve the medical kit. Returning, she slipped a thermometer under Grace’s arm and waited. Moments later, she checked the reading.

"Your fever is dangerously high," Evelyn said, rummaging through the kit for antipyretics.

Once she found the medication, she helped Grace swallow it with a sip of water. Then, she fetched a cooling pad from the refrigerator and pressed it gently against Grace’s forehead.

Methodically, Evelyn dampened a cotton ball with rubbing alcohol and began dabbing it along Grace’s arms and neck, the sharp scent filling the air.

Grace watched her through half-lidded eyes, her throat tightening with emotion.

"Evelyn... I’m so sorry..."

Evelyn didn’t pause, her expression unreadable. "You’re my mother. Taking care of you when you’re sick is natural. There’s nothing to apologize for."

Grace exhaled shakily. "That’s not what I meant..."

Evelyn’s fingers stilled for just a second before she resumed her task, deliberately ignoring the unspoken weight behind Grace’s words. But Grace pressed on, her voice thick with remorse.

"I know you resent me, Evelyn. And I don’t blame you—I resent myself too. If I had been stronger, if I had come from a better family... maybe I wouldn’t have left your father. Then you wouldn’t have had to grow up as the illegitimate daughter, always forced to step aside for Lila. Never allowed to outshine her in anything."

Tears spilled down Grace’s hollow cheeks. "Every time I think about it, it breaks my heart. You’ve suffered so much because of my weakness, Evelyn. This is all my fault..."

Her frail hand suddenly grasped Evelyn’s wrist, forcing her to stop.

Evelyn met Grace’s watery gaze, her own emotions flickering beneath a carefully constructed mask. For a long moment, she struggled to find the right words.

Finally, she said quietly, "Talking about this now won’t help either of us. You need to rest. You’re not well."

Grace shook her head weakly. "But knowing you blame me... it’s unbearable."

Evelyn studied her, then asked bluntly, "Would it be easier if I lied and said I don’t?"