Chapter 481
Bride Behind The Mask
Penelopeâs voice was thick with empathy, and although Rob Fitzgerald had never been through it himself, vivid images sprang to life in his mind.
He remembered his mother giving birth to his sister on his sixth birthday. Heâd dashed to the hospital, thrilled, and watched the newborn in the bassinet, utterly besotted.
He wanted his sisterâs first present to be from him, so he slipped his own little golden anklet onto her tiny foot.
Her mother was so kind to Zoe. How could they have the heart to steal Nina from the hospital?
Damn! The Lockwoods had torn their happy home apart! He wouldnât let them get away with it! Never!
Anger flared in his eyes, his forehead veins bulging with fury. He spun on his heel, storming toward the exit.
Penelope sensed trouble and hurried to intercept Robert, âWhat are you planning to do?â
Robertâs face was a mask of ice. âIâm going to confront the Lockwoods!â
His disposition had always been gentle, even his anger usually contained. But Penelope knew once he blew his top, it was catastrophic.
Fearing her son might do something rash, she urged him to reconsider, âThink this through, Robert! My suspicions might be off. What if the Lockwoods later found or adopted Nina.â
âYouâre still defending them now? If they found her or adopted her, wouldnât they find it strange that Nina looks exactly like their own kids? This has to be deliberate!â
Penelope tried to appeal to his reason, âIf you barge in there now, and they deny everything, what then? Besides, we need to figure out who our Nina really is-Marguerite Lockwood or Yuna Lockwood!â
Her words helped Robert regain his composure.
He rubbed his temples, annoyed, then decided firmly, âWe need a DNA test. Tell Marguerite the company is doing a health check and find a way to get a blood sample. As for Yuna, I heard Manley is sick, and she went for a blood type compatibility test this morning. Iâll ask the hospital if theyâve kept any of Yunaâs blood samples.â
Penelope sighed, glancing back at Marguerite. Without solid proof, she wanted nothing more than to rush in and embrace her.
Maybe Marguerite was her Nina, lost for twenty-five years-her longed-for daughter!
If only she hadnât been taken, the life she could have had would be so much more than what she had now!
No compensation could ever make up for the agony and regret of those lost twenty-five years.
Yet now, she had to suppress the urge to claim her, to wait out the grinding gears of fate, hoping for a favorable outcome.
âWell, we have no choice but to go ahead with the DNA testâ¦â she murmured, a mix of hope and heartache in her eyes.