Evelyn was pulled from her thoughts. She carefully guided Alexander's wheelchair closer to the low table.

Eleanor Jenkins approached them, her steps unsteady. She carried a coffee pot, carefully filling one cup.

Her hand shook as she reached for the second cup.

The cup slipped from her grasp, shattering on the floor.

"Oh! I'm so terribly sorry!" Eleanor gasped, flustered. She immediately bent to collect the sharp fragments.

Evelyn swiftly helped her back into a chair. "Eleanor, please, don't move. I'll handle this," she said gently, kneeling to clean up the mess.

Once the broken porcelain was cleared, Eleanor gave a weak laugh. "My hands aren't as steady as they once were. Forgive an old woman."

Evelyn looked at her, ready to offer a comforting word. But then she saw them. Several distinct, angry scars marred Eleanor's wrist.

Alarmed, Evelyn reached out and gently caught Eleanor's sleeve. "Eleanor, your wrist. What happened?"

Eleanor flinched, her expression turning guarded. She tried to pull her arm away. "It's nothing, dear. Just a silly accident."

Evelyn knew that tone. It was the one Eleanor used when she was hiding something.

"Don't lie to me," Evelyn insisted, her voice firm. "Show me." After a moment's hesitation, Eleanor reluctantly relaxed her arm. Evelyn carefully pushed the sleeve up. Her face paled.

Eleanor's forearm was a canvas of dark bruises and fresh cuts. The sight made Evelyn's heart clench with worry.

"This wasn't just a fall, Eleanor! Have you seen a doctor?" Evelyn's voice was thick with concern.

Before Eleanor could answer, Evelyn sighed in frustration. "Of course you haven't," she muttered under her breath. She knew Eleanor. The children always came first, even before her own health, even if it meant using her personal savings for the orphanage.

Alexander's calm voice cut through the tension. "Eleanor, if you're hurt, it needs proper attention. It's still early. We can take you to the hospital now."

Evelyn shot him a look of profound gratitude.

"Oh, it's really not that bad," Eleanor brushed off the concern with a small, strained smile. "Just a few scrapes. They'll heal on their own in a day or two."

Evelyn was not convinced. "Eleanor, please be honest with me. This doesn't look like a simple trip. What really happened?"

Eleanor held her ground. "I told you, I fell. Why won't you believe me? At my age, it's easy to get bruised. It's truly nothing to worry about."

Evelyn's suspicion lingered, but before she could press further, a sudden commotion erupted from outside the orphanage.

"What's that noise?" Evelyn wondered aloud, her brow furrowing in confusion.

A look of pure alarm flashed across Eleanor's face. She scrambled to her feet and hurried toward the door.

Seeing her reaction, Evelyn quickly wheeled Alexander outside after her. A deep sense of foreboding washed over her.

Several black sedans screeched to a halt in front of the orphanage gates. A group of men in dark suits emerged. Their demeanor was cold, radiating menace.

"Where's Jenkins?" the man at the front barked. "Get the old woman out here. Now!"

Inside, frightened children began to cry. The teachers and volunteers rushed to usher them to safety.

Eleanor stood rigid at the entrance, her face grim as she watched the scene. "I didn't think they'd find me so quickly," she whispered, more to herself than anyone.

Evelyn's expression hardened. "Eleanor, what is this? What's going on?"

Alexander observed the situation, his own frown deepening with concern.

Eleanor, seeing no way out, finally seemed to resign herself. The time for secrets was over.