Chapter 175: Framed Photographs

The weight of Liz’s words lingered in the air like a thundercloud ready to burst. Harry’s grip on his champagne glass tightened, his knuckles turning white. He didn’t need Liz to say her name—he already knew.

But still, he waited for his sister to spill everything, and he listened intently. He made sure that he acted accordingly, not giving any hint that he and Eve had already met.