Chapter 298

"Even my psychiatrist found it hard to believe." His lips curved slightly, but his eyes remained cold. "To be honest, I think it's absurd myself."

Stella Valentine clenched the hem of her shirt. "Are you sure you've never been to Mount Rainier before?"

"Never."

"..."

"You don't believe me either?" He gave a self-deprecating smile. "It does sound bizarre."

After a brief hesitation, Stella asked, "Could you give me your psychiatrist's contact?"

Adrian Roland's gaze turned icy. "Are you sick?"

"No."

"The children—"

"They're fine." She interrupted. "I just have some questions to ask."

Understanding dawned instantly. "About Mr. Alistair?"

She bit her lower lip and nodded slightly.

"How straightforward." His laugh was bitter. "You're not even trying to hide it now."

"Honesty is better than misunderstanding."

"What misunderstanding?"

"..."

"That you're nice to me because I resemble him? That you're playing along just for Grandpa's sake? That I mean nothing to you?"

Stella turned her face away. "Why must you—"

"Why spell it out?" His voice tightened. "Stella, clarity is good. It reminds me every smile of yours was meant for him."

The night wind rose, scattering her unspoken words.

"I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything." He looked into the distance. "I own my mistakes. Even if you want my life, I'll give it."

"That's not what I want." Her voice was feather-light. "For Grandpa, for all the employees... just stay alive."

Dusk deepened, the chill growing sharper.

He took off his coat and handed it to her. "Put this on."

"I don't—"

"I understand." He cut her off. "You're saving yourself for him. But you can't afford to get sick. Victor's agreement isn't signed yet. The children still need you."

She finally accepted the coat.

The familiar scent of tobacco and alcohol enveloped her.

So this was it.

He extended his phone, the screen showing an active call. "My psychiatrist. Talk to her. I'll be over there."

His retreating figure beneath the oak tree looked profoundly lonely in the fading light.

"Mr. Roland?" A gentle female voice came through the phone.

Stella snapped back to attention. "Hello, I'm—"

"I guessed." The psychiatrist chuckled. "You must be Ms. Valentine."

Her breath hitched. "How did you—"

"Professional instinct." The doctor's tone remained soothing. "Don't worry, we have confidentiality agreements."

Stella tightened her grip on the phone. "Doctor, I have a question."

"Go ahead."

"Do twins really share a psychic connection?"

A brief silence followed. "There's no scientific consensus. But identical twins share the same DNA, and there have been remarkable documented cases."

"Then..." Her voice trembled. "Can a brother's memories appear in his twin's mind?"

The night wind scattered fallen leaves as the distant figure remained motionless.