Chapter 4

After the party ended, the Rasmus family home returned to silence.

But that phone call about me was like a needle lodged in everyone's heart.

The usually fastidious George sat on the couch, chain-smoking one cigarette after another, ashes falling all over the floor.

Mason held a teacup, the tea long gone, but she mechanically sipped from it, her gaze drifting towards the door.

Holt paced back and forth irritably, unlocking and locking his phone, finally slamming his fist against the wall.

"What the hell is Carol trying to do now?!"

Nobody answered. I just looked at them sorrowfully.

Then, the housekeeper came down from upstairs carrying a cardboard box, asking cautiously.

"Sir, should I still keep these?"

I looked down, and my heart clenched violently. Those were my things.

The teddy bear I slept with as a child, the trophy from my first competition, a photo with my parents, the birthday gift Holt bought me, and a diary worn ragged at the edges.

George's face instantly darkened. "Throw it all away."

Mason's fingers paused slightly, and she said subconsciously, "Maybe we should keep it for now."

A flicker of panic flashed in Audrey's eyes. She quickly hugged Mason's arm, her eyes reddening.

"Are you still reluctant to let go of Carol?"

"It's actually okay. After all, she's your biological daughter, and I'm just an outsider..."

She lowered her head as she spoke, tears streaming down her face.

Holt's expression changed immediately. He rushed to her and pulled her into his arms.

"Nonsense! How can she compare to you!"

George was even more furious. "That beast isn't even fit to lick your boots!"

He stood up abruptly, kicking the cardboard box over. "Burn it! Burn every last bit of it!"

The contents scattered all over the floor.

I watched helplessly as the scarf Mason had knitted for me as a child was trampled into the mud, and the music box Holt gave me shattered into pieces.

Finally, the housekeeper took everything to the backyard.

The fire burned fiercely, the flames lighting up half the sky.

I stood by the fire, staring blankly as those things slowly turned to ash.

Mason suddenly spoke. "Carol used to really love that bear."

Holt paused for a moment.

George's face was grim as he snorted. "Love it? Then she shouldn't have done such shameless things!"

But after he finished, the surrounding area fell silent, and nobody spoke.

Audrey clenched her hands, her nails digging deep into her palms. George irritably stubbed out his cigarette.

The next day, the Rasmus family went to dine at the most exclusive private club in Los Angeles.

From the hallway came the loud, drunken laughter of a few men.

"I'm telling you, that crippled chick at Mr. Brooks' place, tsk, an absolute delicacy."

"Not only does she crawl like a dog, but she wiggles her ass. I heard she used to be some Miss Carol or something!"

The wine glass in Holt's hand shattered on the floor. Mason's face turned ashen, and George froze instantly.

I hovered in mid-air, shaking all over.

Those men, they were the ones who had brutalized me.

Holt suddenly stood up and rushed over, his voice trembling. "Who did you just say?"

The men were startled. One of them said drunkenly.

"Mr. Brooks' little plaything. What was her name..."

"Oh, yeah. Carol."

A dead silence filled the air.

Mason's legs went weak, almost collapsing to the floor.

George's face was ashen, veins bulging on his forehead. "Say that again?"

The man was frightened by them, his drunkenness fading by half.

"Just that woman Mr. Brooks keeps. Everyone knows about her."

"I heard she was pregnant several times, all aborted. She even did time for Mr. Brooks..."

"Later, she ran away and got caught. Three fingers were chopped off. It's even more thrilling with a broken body!"

Holt's breathing grew more and more rapid, his eyes bloodshot. "What did she look like?"

The man tried hard to remember. "Pretty skinny. Her face was ruined, couldn't really see clearly. But I heard she used to be really beautiful..."

"Her name was something like Carol?"

The knife and fork in Mason's hands clattered to the ground. She began to tremble all over. George's face was terrifyingly grim, his lips turning white.

At that moment, Audrey suddenly stood up, forcing a smile to interrupt. "It definitely wasn't Carol!"

"Lots of people in LA are named Carol. And isn't she still active on Twitter?"

"How could she be as miserable as they say?"

She deliberately clung to Mason's arm, saying softly.

"Mom, don't overthink things. Carol is so smart, she wouldn't let herself be taken advantage of."

Holt was stunned for a moment. The wavering in George's face slowly subsided.

Right.

If it was really me, how could there be no news at all?

If it was really me, why would the police only call once?

If it was really me, why wouldn't I come home?

They desperately convinced themselves, but once the seed of doubt was planted, it would eventually take root and sprout.

I was willing to wait, wait for the day the truth came to light.

I could afford to wait. After all, I was already a spirit.