The sneer on her face made her look exceptionally sharp and venomous. Clearly, there was not an ounce of remorse or awakening in her expression.
Leaning on his cane, Nelson stepped forward. Liz guided him to the chair across from Eartha.
Nelson stared at her in silence. Eartha, anticipating exactly what he was there to ask, spoke first.
"You're here to ask if I had anything to do with the old lady's sudden illness eight years ago, aren't you?"
That was precisely the main reason Nelson had come.
Eight years ago, Bernice's mind had suddenly deteriorated, and out of nowhere, she began hysterically insisting that Andrea wasn't her real granddaughter.
How could an otherwise healthy woman lose her mind overnight?
And why would she suddenly fixate on Andrea being an imposter out of thin air?
Nelson had suspected foul play at the time, believing Bernice had discovered a dangerous secret.
But despite extensive investigations, they found no evidence of Bernice contacting anyone suspicious, nor any trace of poisoning or foul play.
Even the DNA tests confirmed Andrea was a Madden.
Eventually, all his suspicions had been forced aside.
But the world was vast, and there were countless untraceable toxins. Nelson stared dead into Eartha's eyes.
He suspected that his wife's sudden cognitive collapse eight years ago was entirely Eartha's doing.
His grip tightened around his cane as his weathered eyes bored into her without mercy.
Liz's breath caught, her eyes locked fiercely onto the woman.


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