Chapter 281
For the most part, he still heavily relied on his wheelchair to get around.
She visited him every single week, and every time, she saw him sitting in that chair. He had never abandoned it entirely.
Finding it folded away in an infrequently used study was far too bizarre.
Coupled with the fresh mud on the tip of the cane, the knot of suspicion in her chest tightened.
She approached the wheelchair in the corner, leaning down to carefully inspect the frame, the armrests, and the wheels.
But the surface was immaculate. There were no mud splatters, no scuff marks—it was so smooth and clean it looked entirely unused.
“Ms. Sloan p>
A woman’s voice suddenly called out from the doorway, snapping Sienna out of her thoughts.
Sienna looked up to see a young maid holding a tray, still wearing a kitchen apron. She had clearly just been passing by.
The maid asked cautiously, “Are you looking for something? Do you need some help p>
Sienna stood up, casually smoothing out her skirt with a composed expression.
“No, thank you. I’m just looking for a book. He mentioned he had a poetry collection in here, so I thought I’d try to find it p>
“Oh, okay. I won’t bother you then p>
The maid nodded and turned to leave.
“Wait a moment,” Sienna called out, her tone effortlessly casual, betraying none of her internal probing.
“Has he really stopped using his wheelchair lately p>
The maid paused, instinctively blurting out, “No, not at all. Clarissa pushed him downstairs for lunch just today.
The longest he goes without it is when he gets tired of sitting and has someone support him to walk a few steps around the room. He never goes far p>
The moment the words left her mouth, a look of sheer panic washed over the girl’s face. She frantically tried to backtrack.
“I… I spend most of my time working in the kitchen! I rarely come over to the main house, so I don’t really know his daily routine.
Ms. Carlyle is probably right. Maybe he really hasn’t felt like using the wheelchair recently p>
The manor was already on edge after the patriarch’s terrible fall.
And everyone in the household had witnessed the explosive argument between Sienna and Celeste just moments ago.
No one wanted to say the wrong thing and draw a target on their back.
The young maid clearly understood the art of self-preservation and didn’t dare utter another syllable.
“I need to get back to work, Ms. Sloan p>
With a hurried bow, she practically fled down the hallway, terrified of being dragged into the crossfire.
Sienna watched her retreating back, a frigid light settling in her eyes.
She fully understood the maid’s hesitation.
Celeste had always been an expert at buying loyalty within the manor. Playing the fragile victim came naturally to her, and the staff overwhelmingly favored her.
Given how sensitive the situation was, no one wanted to wade into muddy waters.
For some reason, Sienna’s gut told her that there was a massive, dark secret hiding behind Grandpa Sterling’s ‘accidental’ fall.
Choosing not to linger in the study, Sienna looked toward the side door leading to the back garden.
She turned and slowly walked outside.
The corridor on the first floor opened directly into the garden.
A vast expanse of sweetbriar trees filled the area, their delicate petals scattering across the ground, filling. the yard with their heady fragrance.
Sienna followed the stone path into Sweetbriar Woods, her eyes scanning the ground meticulously.
The dirt was damp. It had rained over the past two days, leaving the soil soft.
If someone had walked through here, they should have left glaringly obvious footprints.
But after doing a full sweep, she found absolutely nothing—aside from the fresh tracks she had just made herself.
Standing in the center of the garden, Sienna looked around, the dark cloud of suspicion in her mind growing heavier by the second.