Chapter 175: Barton's Suspicion: The Eighth Miss is Her!

Mag said, "Distinguishing features… One had a birthmark, and the other was just a pretty child." Itha fell silent, staring at Mag, his mind racing with thoughts. The other one… Could it really be the other one? He coughed a few times, his voice raspy from the fever: "Where is the other one now?" Mag didn’t respond. The other child was never liked by them. From the moment she was brought home, she wouldn’t stop crying, not even for a second. She was nothing but trouble! No matter what they did—whether they tried to soothe her with toys or scare her—she kept crying. Eventually, Klan's father grew fed up and locked her in the cellar. But the cellar entrance was in the living room! This layout was something Mag and the village chief had learned together back in the day. Yet, even in the cellar, the baby kept crying. Her cries were so loud they could hear them even when they gathered in the living room to drink and eat pies. It was unbearable. At that time, the pastor was still alive, and some people were devoted followers of the pastor. The pastor was strongly against human trafficking, especially the act of taking young children away from their biological parents. Mag and Klan were afraid of being discovered. After consulting with Klan's father, they initially planned to sell the child to a family far from A City, hoping these outsiders would take the child away. But then a young couple arrived in the village. Mag, with her experience, could tell right away that they weren’t a legitimate couple. They were likely a wealthy man and his mistress. Mag still had a bit of a conscience at the time. She took the opportunity to swap the mistress’s baby with the one they had kidnapped. As she switched the babies, Mag muttered, "This family is rich. I’m doing you a favor." As for the mistress’s child, it was clear from birth that she would grow up to be a beautiful young woman. Mag was so taken with her that she decided to keep the child for herself. She claimed to have given birth to the child herself. That year, Mag had returned home discreetly, hiding her pregnancy from the villagers, so no one knew. Thus, Mag and Klan registered the child with an identity card and birth certificate. So, when Barton couldn’t find any records, it made perfect sense. In those days, a good bottle of wine and a large steak could make the police handle everything smoothly for you. As for the other child, Mag laughed nervously, her expression tense, as if she were wearing a mask. "The other one… I forgot. I don’t know where she ended up." But Barton, standing behind the soldiers, widened his eyes. It seemed he had realized something, and his body started trembling. Barton was filled with excitement. Mag had shown no reaction when talking about the first child, but when she mentioned the second, she became hesitant and evasive. Seeing how she was deliberately hiding something, and remembering how Klan had also been evasive earlier, there could only be one explanation! Barton stepped out from behind the soldiers and shouted, "At the time, it wasn’t a mistake that you swapped the children with the Kashi family’s! You stole Kashi’s child and didn’t like the kidnapped one! You deliberately swapped them! You never gave birth to a child!" Mag’s face turned pale as she saw Barton. Wasn’t this man related to that cursed child? How had all these people come together? Barton glared coldly at Mag, saying, "You deliberately misled me, telling me to ask the Kashi family! But they didn’t know you hadn’t given birth to a child! They just assumed the two children had been swapped by mistake! And they only thought that their biological daughter had been living a privileged life for over a decade! They wouldn’t have told me the truth!" "The second time I came, you told me that indeed, a child had been adopted by someone from the capital! Now she’s eighteen! Then you gave me a fake address! That family had long since moved! They had gone abroad! I wasted so much time because of your lies!" "I never imagined… you were human traffickers!" Barton’s eyes were red as he said, "Young Master, Miss Irene is the Eighth Miss! The one who saved you is the very lady we’ve been searching for all these years!" Itha turned in disbelief to look at Irene. Their identical honey-brown eyes met, and in each other’s gaze, they saw the same surprise, hesitation, and shock. Then, Itha felt a surge of overwhelming joy. Yes! This was his sister! The sister he had been searching for all these years! Perhaps, there truly was a bond between blood relatives. He grabbed Irene’s hand, his grip so tight that even Irene felt a bit of pain. But she didn’t care about that right now! Itha’s wounds reopened from the force of his excitement, and warm blood covered Irene’s hand. She saw the extreme joy in Itha’s eyes, and suddenly, she too felt warmth trickling down her cheeks. "No wonder, no wonder," Itha muttered to himself, "Uncle Barton, ever since I met Miss Irene, I’ve felt a strange sense of calm." "So this is my sister!" At his happiest moment, Itha didn’t even dare to look into Irene’s eyes. He feared that she might resent him for losing her when she was little. Barton, tears in his eyes, watched the scene unfold before him. He had never seen Young Master like this before. Young Master was always the most reserved and quiet member of the family, and only the eldest master could exert some control over him. Even the second master couldn’t command his respect. Young Master had spent most of his life training and living in the military, exuding an overwhelming presence. Even his mother rarely spoke much to him. When she did, it was often in vain because he was stubborn to the core. Young Master rarely showed emotion, and his mother constantly tried to cheer him up, to no avail. He was polite and courteous, getting along well with the family, but it always felt like there was a barrier between them. Even Old Master Robertson had remarked that this child reminded him of an old cousin of his. Old Master Robertson regretted agreeing to let Alice Raphael stay with the family back then. Ever since then, Young Master had become emotionally distant from the family. But back then, there was no choice. Old Master Robertson’s wife missed her daughter dearly. She was their only daughter. With so many sons in the Norman family, there was only one reason. Years ago, they hadn’t intended to have so many children. After having three sons, Old Master Robertson and his wife had decided they would have one more child—a daughter.