Chapter 38: The Recording

“I went to the prison…” Claire strained to control her emotions, taking several deep breaths before managing to speak again. Yet, before she could fully express her thoughts, Harrison burst through the door, abruptly cutting her off.

“What now? Want to play the victim to garner sympathy? Going to tell Frederick about your first day in prison? Huh?” Harrison barged in and snatched up a chair. With a loud thud, he placed it at the foot of Claire’s bed. He sat down, crossing his legs and brandishing his cell phone with a disdainful sneer.

“You! Why do you…” Claire fixed her gaze on Harrison. Shock was plastered on her face. Her heart pounded fiercely in her chest.

“Oh, you’re wondering how I know, aren’t you?” Harrison mocked. “Claire, if you don’t want others to know, then don’t do it yourself!” Her heart skipped a beat, and then she managed a strained smile.

For a fleeting moment, she entertained the thought that Harrison had ventured to the prison to delve into her case. A glimmer of hope flickered within her, prompting her to believe the possibility that some semblance of brotherly affection might still reside in his heart. But his words shattered that fragile hope.

“Harrison, what do you mean by that? And why are you here?” Frederick interjected. He recalled that Harrison had prevented him from investigating the prison. Frederick thought, “Had Harrison done the investigation himself and come to tell me the truth?”

“Frederick, you should thank me for coming. Otherwise, you’d be manipulated by this woman. Her outer looks mask her true, deceitful nature. Listen up,” Harrison said. He shook his phone and played a recording.

A feminine voice echoed, laced with anguish: “You have no idea the inhuman torture I endured in prison. Afraid of the night at dawn and the dawn at night. There wasn’t a single good day, all because of a misunderstanding. It was all done by that cruel woman, Caroline Beaumont. I didn’t kill her sister. But she’s heartless. I can’t swallow this.”

“What? She’s so vile. Don’t worry. We’ll help you get rid of her!” a gang of rough voices followed, dripping with malice.

“Yeah! If we deal with her, will you let us enjoy her?”

Abruptly, Harrison paused the recording. The initial sound was unmistakably Claire’s voice, but it was soon followed by the jeering tones of several ruffians, their words laced with an intent to flatter or appease her.

“Frederick, I’ve gone through all the recordings. Are you certain you wish to hear them once more? Remember, Caroline has stood by you these last four years. Last night, she was trailed by some thugs and suffered an assault. It’s all tied back to that bitch Claire. If you keep listening, I fear you might end up killing this woman! Remember, Grandma has only just recovered, and with her heart condition, she can’t handle any shock. For now, this woman must remain alive. Moreover, don’t you need her to shield Caroline from danger? I’m here because I caught wind of what Jacob did last night. I was worried you might be fooled by her facade. Coincidentally, I overheard her little performance as I walked in. She had everything orchestrated from the start. Reflect on how she portrayed herself when she first returned to meet the Prescott family from prison. I truly underestimated her cunning. She’s always been adept at pretense, even from childhood. Over the past two decades, whenever there was a fault, whether mine or hers, she’d weep and rush to our parents or grandma to lodge her complaints. In the end, it was always me who faced the consequences. From these small instances, one can predict the larger pattern. She’s been this way since she was little. Naturally, she’s only grown more duplicitous with time.”

The moment Harrison first obtained and listened to the recording, an intense urge to kill Claire surged within him. He clenched his teeth, wrestling with his emotions for an extended period before he could quell the hatred and murderous intent brewing in his heart, eventually making his way to the hospital.

“No, the voice in this recording isn’t mine. I have no idea where this audio came from, but those words were never mine. Frederick, you have to believe me. I never enlisted any thugs to harm Caroline!” Panic surged through Claire like a tidal wave, leaving no room for her to fully grasp Harrison’s words. All she knew was that, after four long years, someone had finally asked if she was truly okay. And now, she was on the verge of telling Frederick everything. At that moment, the genuine care in Frederick’s eyes was impossible for her to ignore. When and where had he ever looked at her with such deep regret? The love and care she had dreamed of since she was a child were finally within her reach. How could she possibly let it slip away in just a few fleeting seconds?

Frederick declared, “Believe you? Claire, how can I believe you? That’s exactly what you said when Anna died four years ago. I must have lost my mind to forget you’re a murderer. If you killed once, why not again?” His lips curved into a grim smile as the memory of Anna’s death, from four years past, vividly replayed in his mind like a haunting film. How could he trust a murderer?

“No, Frederick, it’s not like that. If I wanted to harm Caroline, I wouldn’t use the same method I supposedly used on Anna. That’s stupid!” In her haste to clarify, Claire parted her lips to speak, but her words unwittingly handed Harrison the very ammunition he needed to strike back with even greater fervor.

“Frederick, did you hear that? She admitted it! She killed Anna! Claire, do you believe that darkness masquerades as light, or is it that you find the greatest peril to be the harbor of safety? Do you really think employing the same tactic would shield you from suspicion? But you’ve overlooked one thing. There’s no wall so tight that it doesn’t have its cracks, and the truth, like the dawn, will inevitably break through!”

Once Harrison had delivered his final words, Claire fell into a profound silence, offering no further retort. As she turned, the hatred that flared in Frederick’s eyes was as intense as it had been four years ago, undimmed by time. She knew all too well the depth of this animosity, and she recognized that the explanations she had offered four years ago did nothing to dispel it.

“Why don’t you fight back? Because there’s no defense to offer, is there? You’ve just admitted it. Very well, Claire, you’ve played your part brilliantly!” Frederick fixed his gaze intensely on Claire, gave a heavy nod, and bellowed towards the door. “Richard, escort her to the interrogation room!”

Chapter 39: Torture?