The next morning.
When Joslyn came back from grocery shopping, she told Eleanor there were several cars parked outside, blocking the whole street.
Eleanor guessed it was a swarm of reporters, tipped off and now camping out to catch her. She decided to keep her daughter home for the day. Around ten, Simone called—apparently, the school had received a flood of complaints and asked Eleanor to come in.
Eleanor asked Joslyn to look after her daughter while she headed to the research building.
She had barely stepped into the parking lot when a group of sharp-eyed reporters rushed at her, cameras flashing.
“Dr. Sutton, do you have any comment on the allegations circulating online?”
“Was your divorce from Mr. Goodwin premeditated?”
“There are rumors questioning the integrity of your research—what do you have to say to that?”
“Can you provide evidence to support your previous study, which some are now doubting?”
The flashes were blinding; Eleanor shielded her face, unable to move forward.
Just then, a black sedan screeched to a halt at her side. The back door swung open and a long, elegant hand reached out. “Get in!”
Eleanor looked up, meeting Ian’s cool, steely gaze.
Without hesitation, she dove into the car. A reporter gasped, “That’s Ian in the car…”
Gavin hit the gas, leaving the reporters behind.
Silence fell inside the car.
Eleanor smoothed her hair and turned away, murmuring, “Thank you.”
Ian watched her profile, his gaze unwavering. “I’ve already started looking into the source of those rumors online.”
Eleanor said nothing, already turning over possibilities in her mind about who might be behind it.
Once inside, she immediately messaged Joy and Frazier, starting a private group chat.
Frazier was the first to respond, ever calm and collected. “This whole thing is escalating fast. Someone is definitely fanning the flames. Right now, the priority is to stabilize the situation and protect your reputation.”
Joy chimed in. “I’ve got people looking into the source of the leaks, but it’ll be tough to pinpoint anything right away.”
Eleanor replied with a cold laugh, “If she’s so determined to ruin my name, all the more reason not to let her win.”
Joy suggested, “Should we start by sending a legal warning?”
Frazier cautioned, “Let’s not act rashly. A lawyer’s letter might just be a temporary fix, or worse, backfire and stir things up more.”
“Don’t rush to respond publicly yet,” Eleanor decided. “Let me meet someone first.”
By then, she’d arrived at the research building. Both Simone and Dr. Lyman were waiting, watching her with a mix of concern and helplessness. They knew her worth—but, bound by their own positions, there was little they could say on her behalf.

Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor)