Walter sat in the study, repeatedly reading Amy’s diary.
Each word pierced his heart like a dagger.
When his assistant knocked and entered, a faint light finally flickered in Walter’s gloomy eyes.
“Found Amy?”
The assistant shook his head. The reward had nearly reached 150 million, yet there were no leads.
“Mr. Davis, we uncovered something else.”
The assistant placed a laptop before Walter. The video showed Amy being shoved into a van by servants under Mrs. Davis’s orders.
Surveillance footage from that night was erased, except for a few seconds captured by a basement exit camera.
“We traced the van heading toward the underpass where Mrs. Davis last vanished.
The vehicle was recovered–inside were her coat and bloodstains.”
“The driver claimed Mrs. Davis hired him to kick her into the underpass.
He knew nothing beyond that.”
“The driver also said…”
The assistant’s voice faded, trembling.
Walter’s knuckles whitened on the desk, his pen bending under his grip.
“Continue,” he commanded coldly.
The assistant stammered on.
“That underpass shelters dangerous drifters–fugitives and mentally unstable men.
They brawl nightly, leaving bodies in their wake.”
“The exhumed woman died after being assaulted there, then dumped in the river.”
“Mr. Davis, we’re tracking drifters from that night.
But they’ve vanished without a trace.”
Walter slumped into his chair, haunted by Amy’s terrified face. What happened after she was pushed into that dark-
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ness?
He couldn’t bear to imagine!
Mrs. Davis’s shrill voice exploded outside before she kicked the study door
open.
“Walter! How dare you imprison my grandson?
Have you lost your mind?
So what if I scolded or slapped Amy?
That wretch isn’t fit to lick his boots!”
“Release him now! A child can’t survive without food or water!”
“That witch has poisoned your mind!”
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“The divorce papers are signed–she’s nothing to you!
Withdraw the reward! Let her rot wherever she died!”
Mrs. Davis stood arms crossed, face flushed with rage.
Behind her, Michelle stood teary–eyed and bowed.
“Mr. Davis, Nathan’s always been timid.
He’s sobbing in that pitch–black basement… Could you release him?
I’ll discipline him properly.”
Walter’s icy stare pinned Mrs. Davis, making her shiver.
She glanced away guiltily before straightening her spine-
after all, she’d ordered the butler to erase every surveillance trace that night.
“Walter, hurry up!”
Walter stood up and walked to Mrs. Davis.
He knew his mother had always disliked Amy Carter, and after Robert’s incident, she’d blamed Amy entirely for the child’s death.
Still, Mrs. Davis had only ever hurled verbal abuse, too afraid of Walter’s favoritism to actually harm her.
But this time–she’d gone too far!
“You took Amy to that bridge archway.”
Mrs. Davis instinctively denied it, but the damning video on the assistant’s laptop proved undeniable.
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“So what if I did?
That bitch kept hurting my grandson! Wasn’t I right to teach her a lesson?”
“Besides, didn’t you allow it?
You told me to discipline her properly!“.
Walter wished he could stab himself for those words.
Every ounce of Amy’s suffering was because of him!
“Take her to Davis Manor House. Lock her in the Family Chapel. If Amy remains missing forever, she stays locked up till she dies!”
“If Amy is truly dead… she’ll spend her life in Monastic Devotion for Amy’s soul until her last breath!”
Walter’s voice was ice, each syllable crystal clear.
The moment he finished speaking, Mrs. Davis collapsed to the floor.
She stared at her son in disbelief, pointing a trembling finger as she shrieked.
“You ungrateful wretch! I’m your mother!
How dare you choose that bitch over me? You… you heartless monster!
The Davis ancestors will curse you for this!”
Michelle hadn’t expected Walter to turn against his own mother for Amy’s sake.
A sudden chill ran down her spine.
If Walter ever discovered what she’d done to Amy… what would he do to her?
As bodyguards dragged Mrs. Davis away, Michelle stood frozen, goosebumps prickling her skin.
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