Beside the grave, Amy Carter was pinned to the ground by bodyguards.
She lunged forward over and over, shielding the tombstone until her fingers bled.
She watched helplessly as shovels cracked open the small grave, revealing a white–cloth–wrapped urn.
Her heart–wrenching screams and curses went ignored by everyone.
When she bit a guard and charged again to snatch the urn, Walter Davis held her back. “Stop this. It’s for Robert’s own good.”
He led her onto the boat, where Michelle Campbell stood on deck raising her hand. Robert’s ashes scattered into the raging wind, vanishing instantly.
Amy felt her heart dissolve with those ashes.
Numb to pain, she remained limp in Walter’s arms like a lifeless shell.
When the boat stopped, she tore free and plunged into the sea, her cries fracturing against the waves.
“Robert… my Robert…”
Even the roaring ocean couldn’t drown her despairing wails.
Walter’s eyes reddened with anguish. As he moved toward her, Michelle blocked his path. “Mr. Davis, Mrs. Davis Se- nior says Nathan woke up screaming for you.
“He refuses to eat until you return. He’s been ill for days and is terribly weak. Please go to him.”
“Let the guards and I handle Mrs. Davis. Her grief is understandable–I’ll ensure she gets home safely.”
Walter glanced at Amy’s solitary figure. His mother’s calls flooded his phone.
After a brief hesitation, he gave final orders to the guards and hurried away.
Amy stood alone by the shore until dusk, tears spent, leaving only a body seething with sorrow and bitterness.
Michelle approached, holding her phone before Amy’s eyes.
The screen showed Walter laughing while playing with Nathan–their joy echoing across the beach.
“See how happy Mr. Davis is?” Her voice shed its usual timidity. Arms crossed, she stared down at Amy.
Drowning in agony, Amy could only grasp the hatred for her child’s desecrated remains.
Michelle scooped seawater, scoffing lightly. “All day you’ve wept at the wrong grave, Mrs. Davis.”
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Chapter 8
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Amy instantly caught her implication. “What do you mean?”
Seeing hope flare in Amy’s eyes, Michelle’s lips curved. “The ashes were swapped. Didn’t you know?”
Before she finished, Amy grabbed her collar. “Where are they?”
Michelle shook her off, taunting, “Beg on your knees, and I’ll tell you.”
Amy stared back without hesitation–her knees slammed down before Michelle.
“Where did you take Robert’s ashes?”
Looking down at her, Michelle swelled with triumph. She burst into uncontrollable laughter, tears streaming.
“The exorcist said cursed relics belong in the filthiest place to break their resentment.”
“Where’s the filthiest place, Mrs. Davis?”
“The toilet, of course!”
Amy Carter stared at Michelle Campbell, whose laughter bordered on hysteria.
Trembling with disbelief, Amy’s voice came out hoarse. “Impossible!”
“Walter would never allow this!”
She refused to believe he could be this ruthless, this cruel!
Michelle leaned close, warm breath hitting Amy’s face. “Without Walter’s permission, who would dare?”
“Mrs. Carter, your little Robert is in the sewers right now.
Probably mixing with filth, flowing straight toward the septic tank…”
Amy felt an invisible hand seize her heart, crushing it mercilessly.
The world dissolved into ringing silence, pierced only by Michelle’s triumphant laughter–needles piercing her al- ready shattered heart.
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Chapter 9
Chapter 9
