The Bond Between Us (Anastasia and Herman) novel Chapter 868

The message was from Salma.

Cynthia and Colton had finally split up.

Ever since Gianna died, Cynthia hadn’t been herself. Colton couldn’t take it anymore—couldn’t bear the woman Cynthia had become—so he moved out.

Just yesterday, they finalized the divorce.

To be fair, Colton didn’t just walk away. He left Cynthia with some money for her old age, and the house, too. It was as fair a deal as anyone could expect.

But now Cynthia was truly alone. No children, no family around her. She had money and a house, but what did any of it matter if there was no one to share it with?

Salma heard about the divorce through relatives. Worried, she decided to check on Cynthia.

She knocked on the door for ages, but no one answered. Still, she could smell something burning from inside, and it made her uneasy. Not wanting to take any chances, Salma called the fire department. They broke the door open.

Turns out Cynthia had left chicken simmering in the kitchen until it burned dry. The whole house was thick with smoke, so the firefighters hurried to open the windows.

Salma rushed to the bedroom, and when she opened the door, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

In broad daylight, the room was weirdly cold and creepy. Cynthia was kneeling on a mat, surrounded by jars and candles, performing some kind of ritual.

In one of the jars was something that sent shivers down Salma’s spine.

The so-called “little ghost” in the jar—it was just the remains of a child who hadn’t survived.

Salma screamed, startling Cynthia out of her trance.

Cynthia’s eyes snapped open. The look in them was enough to give anyone nightmares.

“Cynthia, what are you doing?” Salma’s face turned white as she saw the ashes on the table, along with a birth date written on a slip of paper.

It was Anastasia’s birth date.

Cynthia had been cursing Anastasia all this time.

Salma couldn’t believe it—Cynthia’s mind was clearly gone.

Cynthia just stared at Salma blankly, as if she were a stranger.

Salma tried to comfort her. “Cynthia, let’s let Gianna rest, okay?”

Anastasia just stood to one side, silent. It wasn’t her place to say anything, and honestly, she didn’t want to see any more. She slipped out and waited in the car.

About an hour later, Salma finally came down, looking drained.

Anastasia opened the car door and asked, “Mom, how did it go?”

Salma rubbed her eyes, looking close to tears. “The police took your aunt and the ashes to the station. She wouldn’t agree to bury Gianna, and the neighbors just wouldn’t back down.” Her voice shook. “Ana, seeing your aunt like that… it broke my heart.”

As a mother herself, Salma understood.

She had watched Cynthia clutch the urn, refusing to let go, the neighbors pushing and shoving until the urn fell to the ground. Cynthia totally lost it—sobbing and frantic. It was heartbreaking.

Anastasia didn’t say a word. What could she say?

They drove home in silence, both lost in their own thoughts.

When they got back, Anastasia spotted a bouquet of fresh cherries on the table. She knew right away—Herman had come home.