Karma Doesn’t Sleep: The Revenge Queen Rises novel Chapter 433

Amelia hurried after them, but the further they walked, the more everything around her felt familiar. Her steps slowed as the house came into view—the same villa, the same garden, the stretch of green lawn. It stopped her in her tracks.

The Sadinton family estate.

It was the house where she was born, where she’d spent the happiest years of her life. Somehow, someone had recreated it here, every last detail exactly the same.

Amelia started to tremble. It was as if the memories she’d buried deep inside had come rushing back all at once. She pressed a hand over her mouth, just to keep from crying out.

And there, sitting under the old sycamore tree by the front gate, was her grandfather Tony.

Seven years had passed. He looked so much older now—his back hunched, his hair completely white. He stared down the road, still waiting for someone who hadn’t come home.

“It’s his Alzheimer’s,” Danny said softly, stepping up beside her, his voice thick with emotion. “Whenever he has an episode, he comes out here and waits. If anyone gets too close, it just upsets him more. All we can do is wait for him to come back to himself.”

Danny glanced at her, his eyes gentle and sad. “He’s waiting for you, Miss. Waiting for you to walk home from school, just like you used to.”

Amelia saw the peppermint candies clutched in her grandfather’s hand, and her tears finally spilled over.

Alzheimer’s. It made you forget who you were, forget the present—but sometimes, the old, important memories stayed clear as day.

“Wait!” A nurse tried to stop her as she moved forward, but Danny quietly held her back.

Amelia approached slowly and knelt down in front of her grandfather.

His eyes, blank and unfocused, finally settled on her face.

“Who are you?” he asked in a small voice.

Amelia’s tears kept falling. She tried to steady her voice. “Grandpa, it’s me. Amelia.”

But he didn’t know her.

“You’re Amelia too? My granddaughter’s name is Amelia.” He smiled a little, looking at the mints in his palm. “These are her favorite. You can’t buy these anywhere—I made them myself.”

Amelia’s heart broke. She held out her hand. “Could I try one? I really like peppermints too.”

He hesitated, then placed one gently in her palm. He’d been holding it so tightly that the wrapper was soft, and the candy inside had started to melt.

She unwrapped it and put it in her mouth.

The cool, bittersweet taste spread across her tongue, sharp with the sting of old memories.

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