Chapter 2

Chapter 2

As the taillights faded into the distance, my world was swallowed by darkness.

I was terrified of the dark.

He knew that, but he never cared.

I pulled out my phone, intending to call a car, when the monster appeared.

Hey there, beauty. All alone?

The man's voice was hoarse and gravelly, sounding like a rusted gate.

A shiver of terror raced through me. I didn't dare look back; I just bolted.

But it was too late.

A massive hand grabbed my hair and dragged me into the woods.

I struggled and screamed, but there was no one to hear me.

I finally broke free, only to trip over a jagged tree root.

Clutching my phone―my only lifeline―I called Killian again and again.

I knew he couldn't have gone far.

I knew there was still time for him to save me.

But…

The line was busy.

No answer.

And finally… he hung up on me.

The killer trailed me slowly, like a cat playing with a mouse.

After ten minutes, he lost his patience.

He picked up a heavy rock and brought it down hard on my head.

In my sheer terror, I didn't even feel the pain, just the warmth of blood streaming down my forehead.

I kept running until I hid inside a hollowed-out tree.

With trembling fingers, I opened WeChat to send one last plea for help.

My thumb froze.

I saw Wynne's new post.

[Even in my darkest hour, you'll fly to me no matter where you are! I see you still care so much. Feeling so grateful…]

The picture attached was a chat log with Killian.

So, Wynne was awake.

So, Killian hung up on me because I was interrupting his chat with her.

Strangely, seven years of obsession evaporated in that instant.

[Killian, let's break up.]

[Fine.]

It was the fastest he had ever replied to my messages.

The last flickering fantasy in my heart was snuffed out.

Because of that single word, my hiding spot was exposed.

Haha, found you.

Seven days later, my body was discovered.

Or rather, parts of it were.

Two hikers with a dog were camping in the woods.

The dog brought back one of my severed hands.

The police spent three days combing the mountains to piece what was left of me together.

On the tenth day, they notified my family.

You have the wrong number. I don't have a daughter.

My mother and I had been estranged for years.

When I was ten, she and my father had a vicious fight.

She cursed him, telling him to drop dead and never come home.

That day, he never did.

He was killed in a hit-and-run, his body crushed to pieces by a dump truck.

I hated her for it.

She knew. She just never said it aloud.

During my sophomore year, when I dropped out to care for Killian, our relationship finally snapped.

You're throwing your future away for a man! How did I raise such a pathetic, stupid daughter?

I shot back, cold as ice, How would a woman who killed her own husband know anything about love?

I knew I shouldn't have said it, but I wanted to hurt her. I wanted to see her bleed.

Her face turned deathly pale. You finally said it…

I've raised you to adulthood; that's all I owe you. Get out. I don't have a daughter like you!

For seven years, I never went home.

But I sent her money every month. During the holidays, I made sure she never lacked what other daughters provided for their parents.

We remained strangers, familiar yet completely detached.