Chapter 356: Chapter 356: [Estelle, Don’t Worry, I’m Almost There]
Evan could only desperately try to keep his composure, unable to stop himself from looking to Claire for help.
Claire bit her lower lip hard, her face pale. She didn’t know! She didn’t know! ’Teacher’ had never mentioned there would be such a surprise!
Time passed, minute by minute.
Estelle slowly reminded him, "It’s been two minutes. Haven’t you thought of an answer yet?"
"I—"
Estelle shook her head. "No rush. It’s fine, you can take your time. I have plenty of time." She casually pulled up a chair and sat down, genuinely waiting in front of everyone.
The beads of sweat on Evan’s forehead grew larger, and his body couldn’t help but tremble. He was a young master of the Yeats family. In all these years, no one had ever dared to speak to him like this! This secret absolutely could not be exposed; it concerned his reputation. No, absolutely not... But what was he supposed to do? What should he do now? Digging his nails into his palms, his mind went nearly blank.
Estelle urged again, "Mr. Yeats?"
Evan secretly gritted his teeth. "Estelle—"
"Estelle, there’s a misunderstanding about this matter. It can’t be explained in a few words."
Suddenly, a gentle female voice came from behind. Mrs. Yeats walked over, supporting someone by the arm. Someone recognized her—this was Old Mrs. Yeats.
Estelle paused, seemingly not expecting to meet her nominal grandmother at a time like this. In Old Mr. Yeats’s descriptions, Old Mrs. Yeats was a kind, educated, knowledgeable, and somewhat humorous old lady who was very easy to get along with. But... Estelle was a good judge of character. She didn’t think an easygoing grandmother would have such a sharp and disdainful look in her eyes. Sure enough, she was right.
Old Mrs. Yeats swept a contemptuous glance over Estelle. "Just as expected, completely unpresentable."
The crowd was stunned for a moment, then broke into an uproar. Old Mrs. Yeats looked down on Estelle! The Yeats family had hosted such a grand banquet for Estelle, but it was rumored that Old Mrs. Yeats had not attended. Now it seemed she didn’t lack the time; she simply despised Estelle!
"Grandma!" Claire ran excitedly to the old lady’s side and affectionately hugged her arm. "Grandma, you’re finally here."
"Good girl, Claire." Old Mrs. Yeats immediately broke into a smile, as if Claire were her biological granddaughter. Then, she looked at Estelle coldly. "We originally didn’t intend to speak of this matter. But since you insist on stirring up trouble, we have no choice but to lay it bare."
An elderly painter frowned. "Old Mrs. Yeats, what do you mean by that? As it stands, Miss Lockwood has clear evidence in her hands. Those are her father’s works. Your grandson stole someone else’s work and yet remains so contemptuous. Is this the upbringing of the Yeats family?"
"Hmph!" Old Mrs. Yeats had nothing but contempt for people like him. What artists, what painters—even if they spent their whole lives working, they couldn’t even compare to a single finger of the Yeats family.
"My husband insisted on recognizing this so-called granddaughter. Looking at her now, she’s nothing special. She doesn’t even discuss matters with the elders of the family before coming straight to our doorstep to cause a scene.
"Originally, I could have kept this hidden to preserve our family’s dignity, but now, I can’t keep it a secret any longer. Melody, you tell them."
Mrs. Yeats’s maiden name was Melody Jenson. Hearing Old Mrs. Yeats’s words, she just pursed her lips and shook her head with a mournful expression. "Mom, forget it..."
"Forget it?! You are a mother too. Do you have the heart to watch your son bear such infamy?!" Old Mrs. Yeats was deeply disappointed by her daughter-in-law’s perceived weakness. "Fine, if you won’t say it, I will!"
"Estelle, you claim that these works were in your father’s possession twenty-five years ago, so they couldn’t have been painted by Evan?" Old Mrs. Yeats suddenly sneered. "Yes, that’s correct."
The scene fell into a complete uproar!
Evan froze for three seconds before realizing what his grandmother was trying to do. He felt reluctant, yet relieved at the same time. After all, the will in Estelle’s hands couldn’t be altered; it was a document from twenty-five years ago. Therefore, they had no choice but to push the timeline further back. These works couldn’t belong to him, but that was fine. Even if he lost them, he had others. Preserving his reputation was the most important thing.
"Old Mrs. Yeats, what do you mean by this?"
"Yeah, are you saying that Estelle isn’t wrong?"
"No," Old Mrs. Yeats mocked. "They were in her father’s possession twenty-five years ago, but that doesn’t mean they were painted by him.
"After all, he could have stolen them."
Immediately, the entire venue was plunged into shock!
Estelle narrowed her eyes. No wonder only Old Mr. Yeats and Quentin had come to Crestfall initially. So this was what the rest of the Yeats family thought of her. She clicked her tongue. To think she had actually believed she would finally have a "home." Now it seemed... However, she didn’t feel much unnecessary sadness. It was impossible for her to have deep feelings for the Yeats family. It had only been half a month since Quentin first approached her. Initially, she only wanted to know who her biological parents were. Now that she knew, she wouldn’t have any regrets even if she really had to part ways with the Yeats family. After all, compared to the Yeats family, she trusted her grandfather more. And rather than maintaining a superficial harmony with the Yeats family, she wanted to seek justice for her parents.
Old Mrs. Yeats announced loudly, "In reality, these paintings are the works of Evan’s mother, my daughter-in-law—Melody Jenson!"
Estelle was taken aback and narrowed her eyes as she looked up. Although she had mentally prepared herself for the fact that the Yeats family was not simple and not all that amicable, she truly didn’t expect that Mrs. Yeats, who had previously been so friendly to her, would become a part of this scheme.
Mrs. Yeats shook her head helplessly and cast an apologetic look at Estelle, making it difficult to decipher her true intentions. Old Mrs. Yeats, however, was already speaking.
"Apart from these, the rest of the works were independently completed by Evan! Why does Evan have a talent for painting, and why did he choose this path? Because his mother was a genius painter back then!
"Unfortunately, my daughter-in-law took things too seriously. When she married my son, she was forced to give up painting and shelved all her artworks.
"Later, when Evan became a painter, he couldn’t bear to see his mother’s talent buried. But Melody felt that since she was getting older and was the matriarch of the Yeats family, she would be too busy to run around for art exhibitions. She decided it was better to hand everything over to her son.
"That is why Evan showcased those works at his own exhibition.
"I know that Evan’s actions might seem deceptive, but he had no other choice. For this, I apologize on behalf of my daughter-in-law and grandson."
Old Mrs. Yeats spoke with such well-founded and moving reasoning that no one uttered a word at that moment. If these were truly Mrs. Yeats’s works, a son exhibiting on behalf of his mother... It did indeed deceive the feelings of many fans, but if one were to get technical, it wasn’t a huge problem.
Someone asked, "But Miss Lockwood said her father left them to her, and there’s a notarized will. Old Mrs. Yeats, how do you explain this point?"
Estelle glanced at her phone. A message from Nathaniel Sloan arrived: [Relax, I’m here. I’ve also brought the person you asked for.]