The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 511

"It's good to see that you two are finally getting along like a real brother and sister," Zadie noted.

Tamara kept her head down, silently hiding the pregnancy supplements in her room.

...

Meanwhile, back at the Sherwood estate.

The days had clearly dragged on past the time Tamara had promised to return. Seeing that it had been nearly half a month since Tamara went back to the Sloans, Gloria set down her coffee cup, her brow furrowed deeply. She turned to Milford. "Milford, how long has Tamara been at her maiden home?"

Milford didn't even look up from the documents he was flipping through. "A little over a week, I think."

"A little over a week? I remember she explicitly told me she would only stay there for a week. It's been almost two! Why hasn't she come back yet? What does she think the Sherwood estate is? A hotel where she can come and go as she pleases? Could she be conspiring with those people at the Sloan house to plot against us again?"

The more Gloria thought about it, the more suspicious she became. She felt like Tamara was playing them for fools.

Slamming her hand heavily onto the table, Gloria raised her voice sharply. "Milford! Why haven't you called Tamara to demand she come back immediately? What does it look like, her hiding out at the Sloans all day!"

Because of Tamara, her poor, precious daughter still hadn't returned home. Why should Tamara get to sit back and enjoy a life of leisure at her family's estate?

Della carefully reminded her. "Well... right before Tamara went back to her family, I saw her throwing up several times. She looked so miserable that I asked her about it, and she said her gastritis was acting up. I offered to take her to the hospital, but she refused, saying she didn't want to worry you or cause a nuisance."

As Della spoke, she herself began to sense that something didn't add up. If it was just gastritis, why would she hide out at her maiden home and refuse to return? And what kind of gastritis caused severe pain for an entire month straight?

Milford's hand suddenly froze over his documents. Vomiting? Gastritis? A sudden memory of that accidental, ill-fated night flashed through his mind.

He jerked his head up, shooting a piercing glare at Della.