Chapter 476: The Dead Won’t Know
Before I had a chance to respond, Whitney’s sharp eyes shifted directly to Alisa’s face.
Alisa settled beside me, gently holding my hand. “I’ve noticed you haven’t been eating much lately. Grandpa and Uncle Carter are so worried about you—they probably already figured it out. There’s no need to feel shy about it. When I was pregnant, I went through the same thing. At first, I didn’t feel anything, but soon after, I was nauseous every single day. Thankfully, things improved after the first three months.”
“Yeah, I can barely handle oily food these days. I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you,” I said, politely refusing.
Other than Jeffrey, Carter, and Whitney, there was no one else I trusted. The food I ate was carefully prepared by a chef Carter had hired, so I used the excuse of pregnancy to turn down Alisa’s offer.
Alisa asked eagerly, “How many months along are you? My baby will have someone to play with once they arrive!”
“It’s still a bit early,” I replied.
Alisa beamed with joy. “It’s incredible how things work out. When you were with my brother, I always thought he didn’t deserve you. Now, you’re not just my sister-in-law—you’re family. It feels like fate brought us together.”
“That’s true.”
“Since you’re a first-time mom, you might not know everything. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me. Oh, and I’ll bring you some oil later.”
I raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What oil?”
“It’s to help avoid stretch marks. Think about it—you’re still young and stunning. If you get pregnant and end up with marks everywhere, it could look unpleasant. It might even affect how close you are to your partner. Men are more visual than they admit. They may say they don’t mind, but they do deep down.”
I gave a small smile and said, “Alright, I’ll trust you on that.”
“We’re family after all.”
Once she left, Whitney carefully moved the chicken soup aside. “Chloe, you shouldn’t drink that.”
I nodded. “I know.” In this situation, I wasn’t about to risk drinking something I wasn’t sure about.
Soon enough, Alisa had someone bring over a bunch of items. I pretended to be tired and asked for some rest, and Alisa didn’t press the issue. Once the door was closed, I took a quick look at what she had sent—pregnancy skincare products, essential oils, and a few parenting books.
“Make sure these skincare products are tested for any problems.”
“Got it, Chloe.”
Carter returned as the sunset. “How was your day?”
I leaned against him, feeling completely drained. “I’m really tired. My appetite’s still off, but I’m throwing up less and managed to eat a bit more than yesterday.”
“Chloe, you’re amazing,” he said, praising me like I was a child, and gently patted my head.
“By the way, Alisa sent over some skincare products. I’ve already given them to Damian for testing.”
“Alright.”
I went on. “Any updates on Wisteria?”
“Nothing yet. There’s no sign of her entering or leaving Jaford or Snowville.”
“It’s not an easy route; she could have come in under a false identity.”
“That’s a possibility. Randy discovered some new clues, and the injuries on his body were inflicted with a surgical knife.”
A surgical knife? A name popped into my head. “Luther! He’s an orthopedic surgeon. He mentioned performing surgery that night—could it have been him?” He had been around both Whitney and me on several occasions, which was suspicious in itself.
“I’ve already informed Captain Tucker about this. He checked the hospital’s surveillance footage. Luther did indeed perform a surgery that night, but the timing doesn’t add up. His surgery was only ten minutes apart from the victim’s time of death. Ten minutes isn’t enough for him to travel from the hospital to the alley and dismember the body.”
“So, it wasn’t Luther? Could it actually be Wisteria?”
“Based on the evidence gathered at the scene, it seems the murderer is definitely a woman.”
Not Taylor, not Luther. Could it truly be Wisteria? Did she go to all this trouble just to send me a head?
“Stop worrying about it. Just stay home and focus on the baby. I’ve already assigned someone to keep tabs on Luther.”
“Alright, the world may be big, but nothing is more important than our child.”
Carter’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at the message. “The test results are in, and everything’s fine with the skincare products. The ingredients are all normal, no problems.”
“I was being too paranoid.”
Carter gently caressed my face. “It’s good to be cautious, Chloe. There’s nothing wrong with that. You need to stay vigilant moving forward, and don’t trust anyone too easily, even family.”
I gave him a smile and said, “I trust you completely.”
Even after several days of searching, there was still no word about Wisteria. Carter had stationed multiple people near Silas’ burial site. If Wisteria showed up to pay her respects, she’d be caught right away. She seemed to have vanished, like a mouse hiding deep underground, never to be seen again. Until she was caught, I couldn’t shake the unease in my chest.
Carter was incredibly attentive, making sure I rested well. After over a week, my complexion started to improve, and my face looked a little fuller. Whitney, however, was a different story. She was constantly waiting for updates about the Carlyns. Every single day, she asked Carter for news, her hope fading with each passing moment. It was hard for me to watch the growing disappointment in her eyes. Whitney had always been delicate, and now she seemed even more fragile. With each day that passed, the likelihood of anyone surviving at Carlyns grew slimmer. Whitney likely knew deep down that Taylor’s family might have been lost at sea, but she just couldn’t bring herself to accept it.
Since I was pregnant and feeling exhausted, I drifted off to sleep, but the heavy rain that night, along with the spring thunder, jolted me awake. I looked around, only to find Carter still working in the study. Was he really still at it? As I passed by the study, I saw that he was indeed caught up in a video conference. It was daytime in Jaford, after all.
I let out a sigh. Not only was Carter managing his own responsibilities, but he had also taken on the affairs of Boltons and was sorting out the chaos Bill left behind for my subsidiary. His days were endlessly packed, while my pregnancy kept me from going out freely. I chose not to interrupt him. Unable to fall back asleep, I headed to the veranda to enjoy the cool night air. The spring rain would soon pass, bringing warmer days with it. I silently wished for our days ahead to grow brighter.
That’s when I noticed Whitney. It was already three in the morning—why is she still awake? She sat alone on the swing, rain pouring down and soaking her completely. What on earth was this foolish child doing at this hour?
Grabbing a large umbrella, I headed downstairs. The wind tugged at my skirt as I made my way toward her. The sound of my footsteps caught her attention, and she turned around suddenly. “Taylor—” Her face fell when she realized it was me, her eyes filled with disappointment. “Oh, it’s you, Chloe.”
She hurriedly stood, concern evident in her voice. “It’s late, and the rain’s pouring. Chloe, you should head back inside. What if you slip and hurt yourself?”
I lifted the umbrella over her drenched figure and asked, “You’re aware of the heavy rain, yet here you are standing in it. Why?”
“I’m sorry, Chloe,” she murmured apologetically. “I couldn’t fall asleep, so I came outside to clear my mind.”
“Struggling to sleep?” I inquired with concern. “How long has this been happening?”
“Ever since I learned about what happened to Carlyns.”
Seeing her face wet with a mix of rain and tears, I let out a soft sigh. “Whitney, tomorrow I’ll have Damian arrange for you to see a psychologist. You can’t keep going on like this. Whether Taylor is dead or not, the one he loved most was you. In the end, he let go because he wanted you to live a good life. But here you are, tearing yourself apart. If he saw you now, it would break his heart.”
Whitney’s eyes were filled with hopelessness as she murmured, “He’s gone. The dead won’t know anything.”
“Whitney…”
“Chloe, I’m okay. Just feeling a bit worn out. A good night’s rest will fix it.”
She drifted back to her room like a shadow, her drenched clothes clinging to her as she slipped under the blanket. Taylor is gone, and though Whitney still breathes, her spirit seems to have withered away long ago.