My Great Escape Led Me to You (Emily Blair) novel Chapter 69

Emily Blair opened her mouth to speak, but another man’s voice abruptly cut her off.

“Isabella,” the man said, his tone syrupy and ingratiating. “I heard all about what happened yesterday. Honestly, I never imagined you were Vivian Martin. The way those people online, and some others, went after you—it made my blood boil.”

His gaze lingered on Emily, sharp and mocking, as he added, “But look, Mr. Lane’s already standing up for you.”

Everyone who worked around these young heirs and heiresses knew how to read the room, always ready to shift their loyalty with the wind.

Not just Emily, but everyone—especially the Lane family—understood how different Andrew Lane was when it came to Isabella Austin. She was his exception, his weakness.

These people knew full well how much Isabella mattered to Andrew. If they couldn’t curry favor with him directly, they’d try to win over Isabella instead.

Winning over Isabella was as good as winning over Andrew.

At the mention of “Vivian Martin,” Emily felt her heart clench, a wave of hatred threatening to drown her.

In her past life, Isabella had clawed her way to the top over Daisy’s dead body; now she’d stolen Vivian Martin’s name, right out in the open.

Isabella must have heard that Vivian Martin was gone—that’s the only explanation for her shamelessness.

But she never expected that Vivian’s student, Emily, was still alive.

Staring down at the intricate patterns of the carpet, Emily’s hands balled in fists, clutching the thin fabric of her dress. She felt Isabella’s eyes on her, and then Isabella gave a carefully measured smile.

“It’s all right. Some young girls just need time to grow up, so they make mistakes. I’m older; I should know better than to hold grudges with children.”

Emily turned her head and caught Isabella’s gaze—half mocking, half pitying.

“Emily, girls your age should be focusing on their studies, working hard to get into a good university. Don’t worry about things beyond your reach. If you don’t understand something, just ask.”

Isabella’s lips pressed together, as if she almost felt sorry for her. “Emily, I know why you’re here. Let’s just treat the school’s punishment as your lesson this time. From now on, focus on your studies, and I’ll let this go.”

Emily looked up sharply, her lips pressed tight as she stared at Isabella.

Everyone in the private room was watching her, waiting in charged silence.

Emily closed her eyes, steeling herself. When she opened them, her gaze was full of resolve.

She stood up, walking slowly toward Isabella. Her hands hung awkwardly at her sides, twisting the flimsy fabric of her dress.

She stared at the floor, ready to speak, when Andrew’s voice cut through the air—low and unmistakably authoritative.

“Look up when you apologize.”

Emily’s hands gave a slight tremor as she immediately lifted her head, locking eyes with Isabella.

She had never found it so hard to open her mouth, as if her lips had been sealed shut.

Because standing before her was Isabella Austin—the woman who’d destroyed her real daughter, driven Emily to desperation, and stolen Vivian Martin’s very identity.