Todos los capítulos de Death Of A Rivera: Capítulo 61 - Capítulo 70

Diana, Jacob, Ryan, Lucas, Mrs Niveah. Those where the people present at the house that night. An information I already knew but only confirmed with the. help of the cctv. I;d say the only thing i gained from witching the clips was seeing Ethan again.I play the clips all over. in my head again as I jog along the lake road, Ellie at my heels, her tongue dangling out and excited to be outdoors again. The clip; Ethan comes home, I know what happens next because i was there. He handed me a single rose like he did most days he got back from work and a letter of approval for Autumn to get in an all girls boarding school the next year.I disagreeed because i felt she was too young, to be away from me, from her father and the home she was most comfortable in. Mrs Niveah wanted it so bad, said all her kids where sent away at a young age to a princeton high college for better education. But not my baby. Not Autumn. I wanted things different for her. A normal life where she could come home to h

As I move down the hallway toward Nicole and Cooper’s room, a flicker of movement catches my attention. My steps falter, and I glance to my left. Neveah’s door is ajar—unlocked for the first time since I’ve known her. The crack in the door reveals a sliver of warm light spilling into the hallway.I hesitate, my curiosity gnawing at me like a persistent itch. Neveah is nothing if not meticulous. Her room is usually a fortress, sealed off from the rest of the house like a shrine to her carefully curated life. But now, it stands slightly open, an invitation I can’t ignore.Glancing behind me to ensure no one’s watching, I nudge the door further with the tips of my fingers, slipping inside without a sound.The room feels like stepping into another era. It’s vintage to its very core, with heavy, dark wooden furniture that gleams under the soft amber glow of an oil lamp on the bedside table. The air carries a faint hint of lavender, mingled with the musk of aged wood. A sprawling four-poste

I don’t wait to see what Neveah will do next. My legs move on their own, propelling me out of her room and down the hallway. My pulse pounds in my ears as I rush toward Autumn’s room. I fling the door open without knocking, startling her where she sits by the window, bathed in the faint glow of the evening."Mrs Grayson?" she says, turning her wide eyes to me. Her voice is soft, almost fragile."Autumn, listen to me." I kneel in front of her, gripping her hands. They’re warm, a stark contrast to the icy dread spreading through me. "I need you to stay in your room. Lock the door, don’t open it for anyone—no matter what. Do you understand?"Her brow furrows. "What’s going on? You’re scaring me.""I’ll explain later," I say, forcing a calmness I don’t feel into my voice. "But right now, I need to know that you’ll stay here. Please, Autumn."She hesitates, her gaze searching mine. Finally, she nods. "Okay. I’ll stay."I squeeze her hands in gratitude, my heart aching at the worry etched a

The pain in my arm blurs my vision, but I push through it. I can’t stop now. Not when Elaine’s life is hanging by a thread. I stagger to my feet, using my uninjured arm to steady myself, but Dogue’s already there, looming like a shadow. He charges at me again, his fists like wrecking balls, but I’m ready this time.I sidestep him at the last second, using his momentum against him. With a grunt, I slam him into the wall with enough force to rattle the concrete. My head spins, but I force myself to focus, ignoring the blood pouring from my wound. I can’t afford to lose now. Not when I’m this close.But Dogue’s no amateur. He recovers quickly, spinning around to face me, eyes wild with fury. This time, when he lunges, I’m too slow to dodge. His fist connects with my gut, knocking the wind out of me. The impact is so sharp, so sudden, I stumble back, my knees threatening to buckle.Before I can regain my footing, he’s on me again, grabbing me by the collar and slamming me into the floor.

TWO WEEKS LATERELAINE’S POVMy fingers trace the delicate patterns etched into the stone, the cool texture of Ethan’s name grounding me as the breeze stirs the wildflowers planted near the edges of his grave. The faint scent of earth and blooms fills the air, mingling with the rustle of the surrounding trees. Autumn walks ahead of me, her small figure illuminated by the soft sunlight breaking through the clouds.She kneels beside the stone, her little hands carefully placing a pair of daisies at its base. Her chestnut hair is pulled back into a neat bun, accentuating her delicate features. Even now, with her bright eyes and curious demeanor, the weight of loss lingers in the curve of her shoulders. My heart tightens, and I reach for her hand, squeezing it gently. A silent gesture of solidarity.We step back together, standing in quiet reverence. Five years. It’s been five long, tumultuous years since Ethan left us. Since my life was torn apart, my freedom stolen, and my daughter take