Chapter 93: The Yeats Family in the State of New York
In the grand, modern estate of the Yeats Family in New York, the serene and dignified atmosphere was interrupted by a strange and unsettling discovery.
Marcia Kelvin, a woman of captivating beauty, stared at the surveillance footage in disbelief. At forty-five years old, she still radiated an elegance and youthfulness that defied her age. Her skin was flawless, her features timeless. Anyone would have assumed she was a woman much younger than her years, and had she been a part of John's life, he would have been taken aback by how similar she looked to Queenie—her beauty was of the same exquisite nature.
Beside her, standing with a look of confusion, was her husband, Nick Yeats. John had seen him not long ago at the Maple Hotel, a tall, poised man in a sharp suit. As the true head of the Yeats Family, Nick commanded authority effortlessly.
The couple was watching a surveillance video from the hotel, and at its center were John and Queenie. The footage showed John carrying Queenie into the hotel, obscuring her face. But when they exited, her face was clearly visible.
Marcia's voice trembled as she muttered to herself, "Why does this girl look so much like me?" She stared at the screen, frozen by the bizarre familiarity of Queenie. In her mind, it was as though she was seeing a reflection of her younger self.
Beside her, Nick, equally baffled, spoke quietly, "Do you think she might be... our daughter from twenty-five years ago?"
Before Nick could finish his thought, Marcia sharply interrupted, her voice tight with emotion. "No, don't even think that. She's been gone for so long." Her eyes clouded over, and there was a noticeable pang of grief in her gaze. Their daughter had tragically passed away in infancy, a loss that neither of them ever fully overcame.
Nick immediately apologized, his voice soft. "I shouldn't have brought that up. I'm sorry."
But just as the air of sorrow seemed to settle over them, Nick's phone rang. It was the hospital.