Chapter 173

Chase fought to suppress the memory, but the harder he tried, the more it felt like grasping at sand. He watched, helpless, as my spirit erupted like a firework, only to fade into the vast night sky. The fleeting beauty left behind an overwhelming loneliness.

The bracelet on his wrist, a shattered reflection of our relationship, lay broken, its beads scattered on the ground. Chase watched me vanish from his grasp, his mind reeling. He stumbled towards the statue, his strength failing him, collapsing into the snow. Ignoring the pain, he frantically crawled closer.

“Amanda, come back, look at me… don’t leave me!” he cried.

Only Chase seemed to see me, making his actions appear bizarre to others. Davin rushed forward, demanding, “What are you doing?”

Chase turned, "Dad, I saw Amanda. She was right here, saying her biggest regret was ever meeting me."

"You must be ill; Amanda isn't here," Davin replied.

An investigator interrupted, "Mr. Reyes, please don't interfere. This statue contains Amanda's remains; we need to take it for analysis."

Chase clung to the statue, "You can't take Amanda away; she's my wife."

Chaos erupted. My mother fainted, my brother supporting her, disbelief etched on his face. Even my stoic father approached the statue, his gaze fixed on the face so like mine, murmuring, "How could this be… how could my daughter be dead?"

He fell to his knees before the statue, his face aging a decade in an instant, tears tracing paths through the snow.

Patricia stood stunned. Despite disliking me, the horrific murder was incomprehensible. "Who could do something so cruel?" she whispered.

Davin’s grief was profound. Silent and stoic, he leaned heavily on his cane, an assistant close at hand. The old man, weathered by life, his voice raw with despair, whispered, "My Amanda…"

In a corner, unnoticed, Derek sat in his wheelchair, his hand clenched so tightly that blood welled from his nails, staining the snow. He knew Chase wasn't lying; he too had seen me. Amidst the swirling snow, I wore a thin dress, looking as young and radiant as I had at seventeen or eighteen. But I never turned to him before vanishing.

His hand trembled, yearning to touch the statue. My mother awoke, her cries adding to the pandemonium as she rushed towards it. No one could accept this outcome.

Then, amidst the clamor, the statue crumbled with a thunderous crash, shattering into countless pieces, mirroring the state of my body before death. A shard landed near Nicole's feet, sending her reeling back in fright, her face ashen.