When His Perfect Mask Shattered I Awoke (Anneliese) novel Chapter 751

"Do you think Anne even needs to do anything for a rift to form between us?"

When Elizabeth opened her mouth to argue, Jonathan raised his hand to stop her, then turned to Derek.

"Grandpa, what really happened in the fire back then? Aren't you going to give us an explanation?"

His hand shifted to point at his mother, but his cold gaze remained fixed on his grandfather.

"Was she really the one who started the fire, intending to kill my father and me?"

He had thoroughly investigated the incident and discovered that the fire was indeed not an accident.

Someone had pushed hard to ensure the case was quickly closed as an accident.

Though he attempted to dig deeper, the only thing he found was the single photo of Elizabeth, taken at the foot of the hill that night.

Everything else, whether it was who started the fire or who forced the truth to be concealed, had been erased so thoroughly that even he had failed to find further traces of the incident.

But the cover-up was so meticulous that, in a way, it already hinted at who had buried the truth.

Elizabeth simply did not have the ability; it couldn't have been her.

If it had been the work of a rival family, Derek would not have stayed quiet after nearly losing his son and grandson in the fire. He would have unleashed a storm of blood and violence on the perpetrators.

But nothing happened. The fire incident had been swept under the rug, quietly fading away into obscurity.

Therefore, there was only one person who could have buried the truth—besides Derek, Jonathan couldn't think of anyone else.

He had promised Anneliese and her grandmother that he would uncover the truth behind the incident.

At this moment, Jonathan took Anneliese's hand, and together, they stared at Derek with the same stubborn resolve.

It was obvious: They would not rest until the truth was revealed.

Derek tightened his grip around his cane, the veins in his hands bulging. His aged face was marked with fatigue, as well as a mixture of complex emotions.

Penelope frowned, her breathing slightly labored. She, too, turned her gaze toward Derek, her voice trembling.

Could it really have been Elizabeth who started the fire?

Was she insane? Could it be that Jonathan wasn't her biological son?

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