Watch Not Without My Daughter Novels & Stories

As I walked out of the station, my mind replayed everything the officer had just told me. The mountain Cedric and Stella had gone camping in was remote, with no surveillance cameras anywhere. Also, they were not the only ones camping there that day. Others had been present. "Don't worry. We'll find the real culprit as soon as possible and give your daughter justice," the officer had said. Seeing my pitiful state after losing my daughter, he returned the watch to me, letting me keep it as a memento even though it was meant to be evidence.

them but still to his surprise there was no response from them furthermore he saw tears rolling down from eyes of his both children’s, seeing which something broke inside him and he immediate turned his wheelchair toward his plasma TV which was attached main wall of his study room right beside his all expensive liquor cabinet “Perhaps this will help you” he said as he picked up TV remote and played some video also the moment video started all old horrible memories from past came down booming on Erica and Mike as they saw their mother lying on bed naked while their father walking toward her as Vidyut singh was standing beside him and vikram Singh was filming it all, Erica and Mike both felt

Brett's POV The lights buzzed overhead. The clock on the wall ticked too loud. Every few minutes, a nurse walked past. Shoes squeak. Charts rustling. Nobody looked at me. I kept seeing Vicky's face. Pale. Still. Her chest was barely moving. Please. Please let her be okay. Then I heard it. A scream. Not a loud one. Not at first. It started low. Then it grew. "No. No. That's my daughter. That's my daughter."

Her smartwatch was waterproof, so we could stay on the call. “Mom, someone’s coming in. It’s Dad! “He came in and went out again. I think he’s on the phone.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Stay hidden. Don’t make a sound. Don’t go out. That’s not your dad.” Then, I heard the sound of a door closing. Something was wrong because it sounded too clear. My daughter was hidden in the bathtub and covered by clothes. If the bathroom door had been opening and closing, I should not have heard it so distinctly.

Right in front of everyone, he pulled a thick stack of papers from his bag and hurled them into the air. My medical records. Screenshots of Maya switching the cookies. Photos of me writhing on the floor before I died. "Look at them!" Dad's voice cracked. "Look at how this so-called micro-expression expert killed her own daughter, one step at a time! "She mistook her daughter's medical symptoms for lies! She watched her daughter suffocate on the security cameras while she was out enjoying a concert and a fancy dinner! "And look at the daughter she raised! A ten-year-old who figured out how to kill without leaving a trace—and make herself look like the victim!"

Even though she was so injured, she was still holding onto a fancy watch. I knew that watch. It was the birthday present she wanted to give her dad. There was sadness in the eyes of everyone around me. Some tried to say comforting words. However, all I could hear was a loud ringing in my ears. My heart felt like it was being chewed up in tiny, painful bites. My little five-year-old daughter had gone through something monstrous before she left this world. The police tried to talk to me, but I was in another world. Suddenly, a call from Jack Gordon snapped me back to reality.

Lily lay so still against the crisp white sheets, her small chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. I moved to her bedside on silent feet, not wanting to disturb the precious rest she so desperately needed. My fingers trembled as I reached out to brush a stray curl from her forehead, her skin was so cool beneath my touch. *What a pity soul,* I thought, the words catching in my throat like a sob. I don't want to lose my daughter. I don't want her to suffer. I don't want her to die. And Marcus, where was Marcus when our daughter needed him most? The thought brought a fresh wave of anger, hot and sharp. While I sat vigil beside our dying child, he was probably somewhere else which I

Slap. Harder than the one I gave Ashley. Rachel hit the ground. The baby started screaming. I looked down at her, my voice colder than ice. "Get out." "Now. Right now." "If I see you again, you won't get a single cent." Rachel picked herself up, clutched the baby, and shot me a look of pure venom. "You're going to regret this." She left. With the child. And a check for fifty million. I stood in the empty chapel, staring at my father's portrait.

She says dismissively. “Not a match you would approve of, I suppose?” I ask with a sarcastic tone. “I don’t have any illusions of having such power.” She says wistfully. I smirk. I am both proud of my strength and saddened by the reasons for it. Her abandonment still hangs in the air, an unwelcome guest always in attendance. “We should try and get some rest. Dawn is only an hour away. Breakfast is in three hours.” My mother says as she motions towards the couch. She snaps her fingers and our robes vanish, packed away in whatever spot she moves them to.

When they saw their daughter tied to the autopsy table, the chief prosecutor, Davin Elkin, and his wife, Portia Elkin, broke down completely. “Ms. Lance, your daughter committed suicide. What gives you the right to kidnap mine? She’s only eight! “You’re a parent too. How could you be so cruel?” The police officers standing behind Davin urged me to calm down. My colleagues also pleaded with me not to throw away my future in a moment of confusion.