Chapter 380

But what did Wade mean by "do this to her"? Was he talking about giving up on Narelle?

I stood frozen in the doorway, watching Wade's face tighten with strain. His fists were clenched, hanging stiffly at his sides; his complexion was pale, almost ghostly.

"Are you deaf? I told you to leave! Leave!" the middle-aged woman cried, her voice rising as she shoved him.

Wade stumbled slightly but regained his balance. "At least let me stay with her until the end. Please."

"It's your fault! If it weren't for you, she wouldn't be like this!" she screamed, pounding weakly on his chest. "Give me back my Narelle! Give me back my daughter!"

So she was Narelle's mother, Mrs. Yule.

Watching this, my heart ached. I wanted to intervene, to say something, to do anything to help.

Before I could move, Mr. Yule gently pulled his wife away. "Stop. Let Narelle have some peace."

"Narelle… my Narelle…" Mrs. Yule's sobs grew louder, her body trembling in her husband's arms.

Mr. Yule led her from the room, and I was so engrossed in the scene that I forgot to step aside. When they encountered me, I quickly realized my mistake.

"Uh, hi…" I greeted awkwardly.

"Narelle… my Narelle…" Mrs. Yule's eyes widened, and she suddenly grabbed me, her grip surprisingly strong.

I knew I resembled Narelle, but I hadn't expected this reaction. Grief can do strange things, and in that moment, it was as if she thought I was her daughter.

Mr. Yule, more composed, gently pulled his wife back, though his gaze remained fixed on me, startled. "You… who are you?"

"My name is Keira Kay," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Keira Kay?" Mrs. Yule repeated, shaking her head before turning to her husband. "Honey, this… this is…"

"She isn't Narelle," Mr. Yule said gently, his voice soft, as if trying to convince both her and himself. "She just looks like her."

Mrs. Yule's eyes darted between me and the room behind her. Slowly, she released my hand, her face crumpling as she whispered, "She isn't Narelle. Narelle is gone."

Hearing her say that felt like a punch to the chest.

"Why do you look so much like my daughter?" Narelle's mother demanded, her voice sharp, her grief morphing into anger.

How would I know?

"Are you doing this on purpose? Trying to trick us by looking like my daughter?" she accused, her voice trembling with emotion.

Mr. Yule quickly intervened, his voice calming. "You're seeing things because you miss Narelle too much. Miss Kay doesn't look like her at all."

"Yes, Narelle was so much more beautiful," Mrs. Yule muttered, casting one last glance at me before turning away.

I lowered my head slightly, avoiding her gaze as Mr. Yule led her down the hall.

"I want Narelle…" she cried, her voice softening as they walked away, her fists weakly hitting her husband's chest.

Mr. Yule remained silent, accepting her distress, though he looked back at me once more, his eyes lingering, clearly unsettled by the resemblance.

Inside Narelle's room, her other relatives were gathered around her bed. They were so close that Wade couldn't get near, though he remained standing at the edge of the room, his eyes locked on her, unmoving.

I considered going in, but something told me it wasn't the right time. And even if Wade came out, what would I say? How could I possibly comfort him in such a situation?

Still, I couldn't shake the question running through my mind: What did Wade mean when he asked if they were "going to do this to her"?