Chapter 23

A tremendous force rammed into Preston’s car. Shattered glass flew everywhere. Blood poured from Preston’s wounds like a fountain. Instead of pain, a deep sense of dreariness and helplessness overwhelmed him. Before losing consciousness, he mustered his remaining strength and yanked off his necklace.

A song still played on the small, cracked display screen. “It makes me sad thinking about how I once had you…”

Jolene received news of Preston’s car crash eight hours later. That night, she and her family were staying at the Norwood residence. Even asleep, the girls mumbled about saving their birthday cake—the castle-shaped one, Jolene and Cedric assumed. As they discussed ordering a replacement, Cedric received a phone call.

His smile froze. His expression turned somber. He quickly grabbed a jacket.

“Charles said Preston was in a car accident. I’m going to the hospital. Jo, stay here with the kids and Dad. Don’t tell them.”

Jolene was shocked. She’d hoped Cedric staying home would prevent something bad from happening, never imagining Preston would be the victim. The accident happened on the same day, in a similar manner; both victims were Norwoods, either in Jolene’s past life or present.

The coincidences made her wonder if it was fate or foul play. If fate, why had Preston taken Cedric’s place? If foul play, who harbored such animosity toward the Norwoods?

She pondered all night, reaching no conclusions. At dawn, Cedric’s message arrived: “They failed to resuscitate him.”

The brevity was clear. Jolene clenched her fists, closed her eyes. Her heart, filled with worry and anxiety, sank.

After all these years, she’d put their past conflicts behind them; she saw Preston as a relative. Still, they’d known each other for over ten years. The news left her breathless. Confusion and helplessness, not sadness, predominated. There was a powerlessness over an acquaintance’s death, and a fear of fate's unpredictability.

After the funeral, Cedric shared the investigation’s findings.

“The police called it homicide, but found no clues. The car had no license plate; they suspect it was stolen from a scrapyard. Everything’s under investigation… Preston was clutching a necklace from the accident until his death. We don’t know if it’s from the perpetrator or has special meaning.”

Jolene frowned. “A necklace? What necklace?”

Cedric showed her a hospital photo. Jolene recognized the blood-stained necklace instantly—Preston’s coming-of-age gift to her. She’d returned it the day before her wedding. She never imagined he’d kept it. Various emotions surged through her.

A vague thought lingered, but she couldn’t grasp it.