Chapter 3

I froze for a moment. Then, I yanked the IV needle out of my hand and stumbled toward the door.

"The ICU is upstairs! You're going the wrong way!"

But I wasn't going to the ICU. I was going to the morgue.

Family members had to claim the body before it could be released. So, Edward's body still had to be there.

Only one nurse stood by the entrance of the morgue. I shoved past her and rushed inside.

"What are you doing, sir?" she exclaimed in disbelief before hurrying after me.

The moment she saw me reaching for one of the body drawers, she cried out, "Sir, this is illegal! If you keep this up, I'm going to have to call the police!"

I shook off her hand and yanked open drawer number 35. But to my dismay, the drawer was empty.

"Where is he?" My voice trembled. "What happened to the body in drawer 35?"

The nurse frowned. "Drawer 35? The patient's family claimed that body three days ago and had it cremated. Are you related to that young woman?"

Young woman?

By the time Wendy rushed in, she only caught half of the nurse's sentence. Her face contorted with rage, and she slapped me across the face.

"Have you lost your mind, Colin? You came to the morgue to look for my grandpa? You actually want to see him dead, don't you?"

I pressed a hand to my burning cheek and let out a bitter laugh. "You're calling me crazy? Let me tell you the truth, Wendy. Edward died last Wednesday!"

That day, Wendy had spent the entire day at a hotel with Zachary after he sweet-talked her into staying with him. I'd tried calling her, but she'd blocked my number.

"Do I really need to remind you about what you were doing last Wednesday?" I sneered.

Maintaining eye contact, I pressed on, "You claim you love your grandfather, but where were you when he was seriously ill? All you've ever done was ask him for money and fool around with the man who killed your own father! You don't deserve to call yourself his granddaughter!"

Hatred flickered in Wendy's eyes. Clenching her teeth, she snarled, "I already told you! Samuel Quinton doesn't deserve to be my father. I'm happy that he's dead!"

She was right—she had said it before.

Her father, Samuel Quinton, had had severe schizophrenia. He drove her mother to jump off a building, and he also physically abused her every day. Because of this, she helped Zachary kill him and even remained devoted to him afterward.

"Drop the act! Have you played the part of my fiancé so convincingly that you've started to believe in that lie yourself? You've never loved me. You only agreed to be with me because I look like Zara Langston!" she cried, her eyes bloodshot.

Sniffling, she continued, "We both have someone we truly love. We only agreed to marry each other to fulfill Grandpa's dying wish. So what gives you the right to hate me for loving Zachary? What gives you the right to take revenge on my grandfather?"

She choked back a sob. "Grandpa is the only family I have left. How could you be so cruel?"

Shortly after, she called her bodyguards and had them drag me back to the Quinton family estate.

When Harold Smith, the Quinton family's butler, saw her, he said gently, "Don't worry, Ms. Quinton. We're doing everything we can to locate Mr. Quinton Senior. We'll definitely find him."

Wendy ignored him and stormed straight into my room. Then, she rummaged through my belongings until she found a metal box at the very bottom of my closet.

My heart dropped.

That box contained Zara's belongings. She'd left very little behind. Inside the box were just a diary and a bracelet she'd worn for 15 years.

Wendy opened the diary and flipped through its pages. As she read through Zara's diary entries, she burst into laughter.

"I never believed in love at first sight until I met Colin Fuller. He's the best. I'd be more than willing to give up my life for him."

Wendy's laughter grew louder.

"Look at how much she loved you, Colin! What a shame. Her words became true. She really did give up her life for you!"

I couldn't take it anymore. I lunged at her and grabbed her wrist.

"Give it back!" I demanded.

Wendy wrenched herself free and tore the diary to pieces. Then, as if that weren't enough, she aggressively yanked on the bracelet until it broke.

I stared at the mess on the floor, my blood running cold. In an instant, I'd lost my will to keep going.

I lost control of my emotions and charged at her. I was prepared to rip her to shreds, but her bodyguards rushed in and pinned me down before I could reach her.

Wendy looked delighted as she watched me struggle against their hold. "Now you finally know what it feels like to lose the person you love! But unfortunately for you, I'm not quite done yet."

She gestured to her bodyguards. Then, two men dressed in black seized me by the arms and dragged me outside.

…

They took me to Zara's grave.

Wendy held a small knife and pressed the tip of the blade against my cheek. "Tell me. If this bitch could see you with your face scratched up from heaven, do you think she'd feel sorry for you?"

She pressed down harder, and blood instantly trickled down my cheek. As her laughter grew even more hysterical, she added, "Ah… I forgot. She probably can't see you anymore."

"I heard that once someone's ashes are scattered, their soul will be erased forever," she said as one of her bodyguards handed her an urn.

That was Zara's urn.

Wendy looked down at me and lifted the urn in one swift motion.

"No!" I screamed.

A split second later, she crouched beside me and patted my face with a hand dusted in ashes. "If I can't find Grandpa, I'll send you over to the afterlife to keep Zara company."

Just then, Harold came running toward us frantically. "I have news, Ms. Quinton! Mr. Quinton Senior… He passed away a week ago. The person who handled his paperwork was Zachary Shaw!"