Chapter 116

As soon as those words left her lips, it was as if a lightning bolt had struck the Kennedy family's living room, freezing everyone in place. All eyes turned to Ann. I heard my mother's voice, shaky and disbelieving. "What did you say? Who's dead?"

Ann's face was unsettlingly calm as she stared at the family portrait, pointing directly at me. "She's dead. Dead. So much snow, so much blood!"

My mother clutched Ann's puffer jacket, demanding, "Where did you see this? How did she die?" Her harshness stirred memories of the terrifying days on the ship and in the park. Ann clutched her head, panicking. "Don't hit me! I'm sorry. I won't run away again. I promise!"

The Hammonds quickly pulled Ann into a protective embrace. "I'm so sorry. My daughter didn't mean it."

My mother, clearly agitated, pressed Ann. "Tell me, explain yourself. How did she die?" But the louder she became, the more terrified Ann grew, dodging her questions and bursting into tears. "I'm too scared."

My anxiety mirrored hers. Ann had mentioned the heavy snow from that night—a crucial detail suggesting she'd witnessed something! But her trauma and my mother's impatience were preventing her from articulating what she knew. She just cried and recoiled. "Mom, take it easy," Nicole said gently, pulling my mother back. "This poor girl has been through a lot at Shadowmoor."

Ann's mother was pale with fear. She had come to thank the Kennedys, and now this. She quickly apologized. "I'm so sorry, my daughter is upset. She didn't mean to say anything bad about your daughter, Ms. Kennedy. She's not well. You can't trust her words."

With that, she pulled Ann away into the snow. Ann was still muttering, "Blood. So much blood! A dead person!" The butler quickly closed the door behind them.

My mother clung to my father's sleeve, worried. "Could Amanda really be…?"

My father frowned, instinctively reaching for a cigarette.

I glanced at Chase, who hadn't spoken since Ann's arrival. He seemed lost in thought, his brow furrowed, likely trying to decipher Ann's words. I almost forgot his indecisive nature.

Nicole stepped in, smiling. "Mom, Dad, are you really going to believe the ramblings of someone unwell? If Amanda were dead, how do you explain these photos? It's not like she was acting strangely before her wedding, right?"

"That's impossible," Chase said. "She was at the orphanage every day before the wedding. The director can vouch for that, and before that, she had just…" He stopped, my mother looking at him sharply.

"Just what?" my mother asked.

"Nothing, Mom. When I was deleting the photos, I asked the admin for the originals. They were taken five days after Amanda went missing. By then, Ann had already been kidnapped. How could she know anything about my sister?"

This seemed to relieve Chase, his expression lightening.

If I really were dead when those photos were taken, I thought, how could Chase live with himself for betraying me and having an affair with Nicole? I saw him for who he truly was—a man who always prioritized himself.

My mother sighed. "That girl just never gives us a break. Maybe it's better if she just stayed away."

I knew she spoke out of frustration, but I was truly gone.

"If she doesn't care about this family, then we shouldn't worry about her anymore," my father added. "I'll pretend I never had another daughter."