Page 51 of Vintage

After what felt like an eternity, she finally spoke. "What does she want from you?"

“Tyson was responsible for her brother's death, and she wanted him out of the picture. It’s likely that she was the one who killed him and staged it as a burglary. Now that she spotted me in an article, she probably thought Tyson had returned to finish what he started, which in this case, meant coming after me. Her suspicion about my identity being linked to Tyson was likely confirmed by my prison time. In her mind, I had become him. What puzzles me, though, is how she is still alive when Elijah claimed she was dead.” I admitted, feeling a sense of confusion.

Amery gathered her hair into a bun, wiping her tears and snot on her hoodie sleeves.

She looked at me, her eyes swollen and red, yet there was no trace of hatred in them, which was perhaps all I needed at that moment.

I didn’t require declarations of love; that would be too much considering what she had seen. But if she was willing to sit and listen to my side before making her judgment, I had no issue with that. At least there was no hatred in her eyes, and that brought me some comfort.

"I suspect Elijah was covering for her, and they were both in cahoots," she said, and I nodded in agreement, grasping the situation.

It felt more plausible to address our questions, yet there were still too many lingering ones, and we both recognized that we needed time before facing them.

"Ro."

I tensed when Amery placed her hand over mine. It was unexpected, and I wasn’t prepared for it.

She locked eyes with me, offering a crooked smile as fresh tears welled up.

"Let’s go home, Ro. Let’s just go home," she sobbed, climbing onto the bed and straddling my lap, showering my face with kisses and wrapping her arms around me.

I took a deep breath, feeling a mix of happiness, pain, and anxiety, all stemming from my raw fear of what lay ahead.

In spite of everything, I kissed her forehead and swallowed hard, whispering, "Yes, sweetheart. Take me home."

Chapter Twenty Two

"R-" my voice caught in my throat as I stepped into the room, searching for him to join me for dinner.

What once felt like a coping mechanism a month ago now resembles the haunting narrative of a story I’m desperately trying to avoid.

Ro stood by the window, gazing out at the backyard as he did every night, staring into the darkness that enveloped it.

After bringing him home, we agreed to wait until the case was resolved before selling our house. After much deliberation, we decided to leave Willow Crest and move to LA while we figure out where we truly want to settle.

I know Ro isn’t thrilled about this plan; he’s never been fond of city life. However, considering what has happened here, I don’t think we can remain for much longer.

It’s the memories that torment us more than any actual spirits lurking here, and they will not only haunt us but also wound Ro deeply.

Our relationship has been mostly stagnant over the past month, but perhaps that’s for the best—for both of us. He needed time to escape the hell he was trapped in, and even though he’s physically free now, his mind still lingers in that place, revisiting the manor and its memories.

I approached my husband, gently placing my hand on his shoulder. He flinched at my touch, surprised, before he steadied himself and turned to face me.

I offered him a small smile, but his response was subdued.

"Did Reese and Darius discover anything?" he asked, referencing my earlier phone call with our friends, during which he had stepped out to come up to our room.

Reese and Darius were in Egypt visiting Elijah Montgomery, who had claimed over the phone that we were losing our minds and speaking nonsense. He insisted that his wife had died, providing testaments from friends, family, and death certificates as proof. However, that alone wasn't sufficient, so with the consent of both state and legal authorities, as well as his own, Reese requested to exhume the grave.

The DNA found in the body indeed matched that of his deceased wife, confirming his story. Yet, what left us all perplexed was the revelation that the DNA we discovered on items left behind by Willow also corresponded to his wife’s DNA.

It was utterly bizarre.

We were completely in the dark about Willow's whereabouts after we rescued Ro, and how someone presumed dead could still be alive.

There was no sense to it.

"Nothing that would assist us, so they've decided to return and should be catching their flight by now," I told him, taking his hand and guiding him with me.

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