Ellen’s POV

As I sat in the car, lost in thought, Liz’s words echoed in my mind. Was she truly losing her mind, fractured by recent events? A chill ran down my spine, the hairs on my neck standing on end. I considered the possibility of Kamille’s vengeful spirit lurking, waiting to exact its revenge.

But such things don't exist. Kamille's spirit died with her. I turned to Ava, positioned in the far corner.

"Why are you there?" I asked, trying to sound calm.

"Uhhh… nothing, Ma'am," Ava stammered, adjusting her glasses.

"Good," I replied. My phone rang, startling me.

Ava hesitated, clearly unnerved by the tension. "Excuse me, Miss Ellen," she said shakily. "Your phone is ringing."

My nerves frayed, I snapped, "Who the hell is that?"

Ava flinched. "It's your father," she replied timidly, offering me the phone.

With a frustrated sigh, I answered. "Father, is everything alright?" My voice was tinged with concern.

Before I could get a response, his urgent voice cut through, "Ellen, where are you? Come home right now!"

Alarm surged through me. "I'm already on my way," I assured him, my heart racing. "What's going on?"

"Gabriel has been arrested!" he stated. "I expect you in five minutes." He hung up.

What the hell?

My heart pounded. I frantically unlocked my phone and searched the internet. My fingers flew across the screen, desperately seeking information about Gabriel's arrest.

The news was everywhere: Gabriel had been arrested on multiple counts of sexual assault. The evidence was detailed and overwhelming. As I scrolled, it hit me: the barrage of evidence, including allegations against Kamille, came from the same blogger who released Liz's videos.

On a normal day, Gabriel deserved this. But today felt like hell.

I scrolled through comments. Women victimized by Gabriel were speaking out, emboldened by the blogger's courage. They were sharing their stories.

"Injustice?" I said aloud. Hysteria washed over me. I began laughing hysterically. "Kamille's spirit must really be after our family," I muttered, the words tumbling out in a manic frenzy.

The past few days had been a nightmare. The thought of Kamille's spirit haunted me, but the laughter was more frightening. I laughed until tears streamed down my face. Ava shook her head, her eyes filled with concern.

Before I could process her reaction, defensiveness surged. "What?" I snapped. "Do you think I'm crazy? I'm not fucking crazy!"

The words surprised even me, a desperate attempt to control the chaos. But beneath, I felt cracks forming, the weight of the world unbearable.

Ava recoiled. "No, ma'am, of course not," she stuttered.

With a shaky breath, I focused on the road. Have I become crazy like Liz?

Arriving home, I rushed inside, finding my mother sobbing on the couch. "Mother," I said, crossing to her.

I embraced her, offering comfort. "It's okay, Mom," I murmured.

My father's harsh voice cut through, "Stop crying! It's not going to solve anything!"

"Father, please," I pleaded. "She's upset. Can't you see that?"

His gaze remained cold. "She needs to pull herself together," he retorted. "We can't afford to fall apart now."

He called Mr. Finley. His voice boomed, sharp and demanding. "What the hell is going on? Why haven't you caught the blogger? Who's supplying him with evidence?" His frustration mirrored my own.

"I'm sorry, sir. We're working on it. The blogger covers his tracks well," Mr. Finley said.

"Well, if you want to keep your head and job," my father's voice turned menacing, "you'd better find that blogger and his source. Otherwise, you'll be looking for a new job."

"Understood, sir."

"And take down all those videos and evidence. Don't let any survive the night," my father barked.

"Sir, I've been trying, but it's been circulated widely. It's out of our control," Mr. Finley replied.

Tension mounted. My father clenched his jaw. "Damn it, do what you must. We need to find that blogger, no matter what."

He hung up and looked at me. "Be prepared. You might be next."