Dear Ex-wife Marry Me novel (Maja) novel Chapter 1367

After a long silence, he finally rasped, “Dad wasn’t necessarily telling the truth.”

“Bro, I do trust Dad though. When I was heading to Greenfield, he told me to really blend in with the folks there. I found it odd back then, but looking back, he probably wanted me to get close to them, to dig up info about our sis. And Dad put Phelps on this case, and now Phelps is giving us this result. It’s not like they could both be wrong, right?”

Beck was more clear-headed than Dylan, and he wasn’t too fond of Judith.

It wasn’t exactly dislike, more a disapproval of some of Judith's antics.

“Bro, there’s nothing wrong with being fond of your family, but when Judith was in Greenfield, a lot of what she did was way out of line. Ian and Maja were clearly an item, and yet she had to go and meddle, and you even helped her out. Just think about it—if the shoe was on the other foot and Maja tried to mess with Judith and Ian, wouldn’t you think she was totally shameless? There’s a line, even in indulgence. Tonight, with your help, our real sis met with tragedy. All this was because of your constant coddling of Judith.”

Dylan went pale, finding no words to counter.

Beck glanced at the unconscious Judith.

“I didn’t demand she pay with her life for what happened to our sis. That’s out of respect for the twenty-some years together. Bro, you’ve always been my role model. You figure it out.”

With that, Beck walked out without looking back.

He couldn’t possibly stay there. He had come home for a family dinner, only to find a disaster had struck.

He wasn’t naive; Dad had kept the truth from them for years, clearly fearing someone.

The Sanders had many enemies, and a tough battle seemed inevitable.

Dylan stood frozen, contemplating walking past Judith and just leaving.

But after a few steps, he felt a tightness in his chest.

Having doted on someone for over two decades, the sudden shift to heartlessness felt jarring.

It wasn’t about like or dislike. It was simply unfamiliarity.

He halted and eventually said to someone nearby, “Take her out of here, get her to a hospital. Give her some cash.”

Doing anything more would leave him feeling dreadful.

He lowered his lashes and hastily left the scene.

He needed to know if his father’s words were true. Was Jolin really dead? Was she truly his sister?

He had to investigate!

Beck had been bottling it up all night, struggling to make sense of it all.

After recounting the previous night’s events, he finally breathed a sigh of relief.

“Now, Dad’s gotten sick from all the stress, his hair turned white overnight. My brother’s been kicked out of the Sanders home, brooding about finding clues on his own. And Judith, never really one of us, no one cares where she’s headed. Just like that, our family’s fallen apart.”

Beck reached for a smoke, his eyes rimmed red, looking utterly pitiable.

Ian’s hands rested on the steering wheel. Jolin a true Sanders?

He wasn’t buying it. But he had to admit, if Phelps was behind this, it was a seamless plot, using every pawn effectively, leaving no room for error.

He didn’t respond immediately but tentatively picked up his phone and called Phelps.

He half-expected no answer, but to his surprise, the call connected.

Phelps’s voice was as mild as ever.

“Ian?”