Chapter 460 Shattered Memories

“Tilda is alive and well. Why do I keep having these dreams?”

Darell clenched his teeth, anger burning as he recalled what had happened in the conference room back then. He had never met such a cruel, unreasonable woman.

He hadn’t even done anything to her. The two of them hadn’t met. Yet she kicked him hard in the stomach, ignoring the fact they were family.

Then, another familiar voice echoed in his head. “Darell, Howard… Oh my gosh, isn’t this Tilda’s memorial frame? Did Dad and Mom secretly put this here?”

That voice belong to Kyla?

Darell’s brows drew together. The dream shifted again, morphing into something new. This time, Tilda was dead.

Damn it. It’s just a dream. So why does my heart ache like this, as if it really happened?

“No way! Mom and Dad already saw through Tilda’s lies. They hate her. How could they ever make a memorial frame for her?”

“That bitch hurt Kyla and almost ruined our family. She doesn’t deserve a memorial frame!”

“Howard, stop it!”

Wait–that voice sounded like Howard. And like himself?

Before Darell could make sense of it, a dark figure rushed forward. He grabbed Tilda’s memorial frame from the desk and smashed it hard against the ground, shattering it into pieces.

Not happy with it, Howard stomped on the photo again and again until it was fully ruined. Kyla screamed in shock.

Another dark figure shot out from the corner and stopped Howard. “Howard, are you crazy? No matter what she did, Tilda is still family. She’s already dead. No matter what mistake she had made, it was in the past. Isn’t that enough?”

“Enough? Never! I’ll never forgive Tilda! She hurt so many people. Dying doesn’t clear her sins–it’s the punishment she deserves!”

“She doesn’t deserve a memorial frame! A woman that cruel belongs in hell forever!”

Howard stood in front of Tilda’s memorial frame, spitting out the most hateful words. Then he spat on it. The spit landed right on the broken piece where Tilda’s name had been written. The sight was shocking and sickening.

“Howard!”

“Don’t stop me, Darell! She deserves this. Tilda deserves to die!”

“Darell, Howard, stop fighting. Dad, Mom! You have to stop them.”

The dream ended with Kyla’s desperate plea.

“Urghh!”

Darell jolted awake. His chest heaved as he gasped for air. Cold sweat soaked his body. He lay in bed for a long time before he finally calmed down. Outside, the sunlight was already bright.

Darell rushed into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. Staring at his reflection in the mirror, he reached out and wiped across the glass with his hand.

“Dang it! What on earth is happening?”

He whispered to himself, “Just like Tilda said, it’s only a dream. I shouldn’t let it get to me.” But then his jaw tightened. “So why does it feel so real? Like I actually lived it?”

For over two weeks, everything had spun completely out of his control. His entire belief in science, drilled into him since childhood, was breaking apart.

Downstairs in the hotel’s buffet restaurant, Silva was finishing her meal. Tilda happened to walk by and stopped at her table.

“Mind if I sit here?” Tilda asked.

“Of course not, Tilda,” Silva said quickly. “Didn’t you come to Jeselton with your friends? Where are they?”

Tilda smiled faintly. “One went back to his apartment. The other is still sleeping in.”

“I see…” Silva hesitated, glancing at Tilda now and then. It was obvious she wanted to ask something but couldn’t bring herself to.

Tilda tore off a piece of her cream roll, took a bite, and said casually, “Why hold back, Silva? We’ve only known each other for a day, but it’s not like you need to bottle it up.”

“You already know what I want to ask, Tilda,” Silva said. “You met Darell last night, didn’t you? Did you figure out what his dream meant?”

“No,” Tilda answered flatly. “I don’t even know why he’s having that dream. The only reason I saw him was to warn him not to keep pestering me with nonsense.”

Silva said nothing. She lifted her cup and took a sip of coffee to hide the awkward silence.

“I know,” Tilda said, “you think I’m lying. But that’s exactly what I did last night.”

“You must know what the dream really means. You’re not like other women, Tilda.” Silva’s voice softened as her amber eyes locked on her. Those eyes carried the mark of her psychic bloodline.

But when they met Tilda’s gaze–eyes dark and bottomless, like an ancient well–Silva felt herself drown. The only thing she could faintly see within those depths were two shining souls burning bright. Nothing else. No trace, no opening, no weakness.

“I give up.” Silva whispered at last. “Your power is so strong. Tilda, even I can’t see the smallest crack in it.”