Reborn From Oblivion (Nellie and Cameron) novel Chapter 611

Luke slumped back in his chair, clearly overwhelmed.

"Who are you, really?" he asked, trying to mask his unease.

The man replied, a hint of amusement in his voice, "That's the second time you've asked me today."

Luke glanced nervously at Nathalie. "Miss, I've spilled everything I know. You should probably head out now."

Sensing the tension in the room, Nathalie pressed on, determined. "Detective Luke, I'm not letting this go. If you come clean, maybe there's room for forgiveness. But if you're covering for the culprit, rest assured, I'll see to it that you're held accountable too."

Luke forced a chuckle, though it sounded hollow. "Everyone involved is either dead or out of commission. There's no reopening this case."

Nathalie stepped closer, her voice steady. "Take a good look at me. Don't you see how much I resemble the main victims of the campus fire? As their daughter, don't I have the right to seek justice for my parents?"

Luke was taken aback. It was only now that he saw how much she looked like Lincoln.

"Yes," he admitted, the weight of his words heavy.

After a moment of internal struggle, he decided to reveal a secret. "We found evidence of tampering in Lincoln's car accident. But when the Stewart family suddenly dropped their pursuit of the real culprit and offered us certain 'incentives,' I let my ethics slide and abandoned the case. It's haunted me ever since."

Nathalie closed her eyes, processing the revelation. "I see."

Luke then dropped another bombshell. "Oh, and by the way, Lincoln didn’t actually die back then."

Nathalie's eyes widened in disbelief.

Her father was alive? She wasn't entirely alone after all.

"Where is he?"

"He's in a private hospital owned by the Stewart family, kept alive with special medication."

Tears brimmed in Nathalie's eyes. "I understand."

Standing by the curb, Nathalie was about to hail a taxi when the man offered, "Where are you headed? Let me give you a lift."

Nathalie didn't hesitate. She followed him into the car, and as they settled into the spacious backseat, the air felt unexpectedly tense.

"Can you tell me your name?" Nathalie asked, breaking the silence.

The man paused, caught off guard and a bit uncomfortable. "My name isn't really important."

"Why did you help me?" she pressed.

"Just a small gesture," he replied, brushing it off.

"Sir, today's events might have seemed minor to you, but they were incredibly significant for me. You've helped me out a lot, and I owe you my thanks."

He turned to her, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "And how do you plan to thank me?"