Jean had been locked away in the basement of the Hamilton manor for over two months now. During that time, she had no access to her phone or any form of entertainment, and she counted the days with her fingers.
She had lost track of how long she'd been confined there. All she could remember was that when she first arrived, the branches outside were bare, stripped of leaves. But now, new shoots had sprouted, a beautiful green a stark contrast against the dullness of her surroundings.
Her favorite thing to do every day was to sit by the window after dinner and quietly watch the green leaves and the birds.
For some reason, her body felt uncomfortably warm that night, and she couldn't sleep. So, she got out of bed, hugged her knees, and sat by the window, gazing at the branches outside.
All of a sudden, the door creaked open and clicked shut again. Not expecting much, Jean turned around to look at the figure that had entered.
Her eyes were hollow and unfocused as she stared blankly at the person walking in. Gradually, her pupils came into focus and lit up. "Brad, is that you? Is it really you?" she asked, pushing herself off the ground to sit up and lunge at the tall figure.
The basement was dark, damp, and without sunlight—a place that, no matter how diligently she cleaned, always carried a musty smell. The room itself was furnished with a bed, a nightstand, a table, a chair, and a small washroom.
"It really is you, Brad! I knew you wouldn't just leave me here. I knew you'd come!" she exclaimed, reaching out to hug him. "Let me hold you. I've missed you so much! You haven't visited in so long. I thought you'd forgotten about me!"
Brad took a large step back, avoiding any physical contact with her. He motioned for the bodyguard behind him to step in, increasing the distance between himself and Jean.
"I'm here to ask you something. Were you really the woman at Palace Hotel that night six years ago?"
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This book is dragging 😩...