Chapter 95:

The whole room felt so small as Zoey ran past them, it was like oxygen was racking her spine as she counted the rooms. Her breath was short-lived, she could only pray under her breath.

"Zara!" She calls out, fear evident in her voice, the pain of losing her own daughter sends tears to her eyes. The hall was stretched out, too many rooms. The stairs looking back at her.

She stopped at the living room, she could feel the throbbing in her head.

"Zara! Please come out. Please." She just stood there rooted, it was like the alarm was buzzing in her head: countdown, five, four..

Sweat clanged the corner of her hair, she checked her father's study, it looked rather untouched. Her father's favorite novel, 'Rich man, poor man,' sat there elegantly on the table.

Hope. It needled through her, then vanished into thin air. She called again, this time more loudly, perhaps her daughter might hear her. "Zara!" The room was eerily quiet.

With lost hope, she just stood there, she would rather blow with