Chapter 5

I suddenly remembered that Andrew's status and wealth were nothing like they used to be.

He'd started his own film company and could go toe-to-toe with Ethan. It wouldn't be hard for him to take what he wanted from Ethan.

Andrew's gaze fell on the chat logs on my phone. The last thing on the screen was Ethan's transfer of 15,000 dollars to me.

Maybe Andrew suddenly felt disgusted. He released me and got up from the sofa.

He flipped on the light and fixed his clothes and tie slowly.

When he turned back to me, there was no warmth left in his voice. "Let's go. Ms. Lynn, since you love crashing in a haunted house so much, let's go check it out together."

He seemed to see the reluctance written all over my face, and he went on slowly, "If you refuse, you'll have to give the money back."

I'd paid the 15,000 dollars to the hospital.

Andrew let out a cold laugh and strode toward the door.

I got up and followed him out.

Maybe I rose abruptly; spots danced before my eyes. A big drop plopped down out of nowhere, spreading across the surface.

My vision was blurry, so I couldn't see clearly. My first thought was that it was sweat from my nerves.

It took me a moment to realize it was a red nosebleed. I needed to hustle harder for cash.

*****

The car pulled up in front of a secluded villa out in the suburbs.

It was already evening, and the front yard was shrouded in a dim, indescribable sense of eeriness.

We walked across the front yard and stopped at the entrance. Andrew gave me the code and told me to unlock the door.

My hands were shaking for some reason, and even though I tried following the numbers he recited, I couldn't get the code right.

Andrew stood next to me, leisurely enjoying my embarrassment.

My hands kept trembling, and after so many tries, I still couldn't get the code to work.

Then I heard him laugh, calm and collected, yet sharp with the satisfaction of getting revenge. "Ms. Lynn, someone like you gets scared too?"

Andrew directly reached into my pocket, unlocked my phone, started a livestream, and aimed the camera at me.

Less than ten minutes later, the comments section was flooded with insults and mockery. [Haunted house livestream? Has Olivia lost her mind for money?]

With a soft click, Andrew entered the code and pushed the door open.

The sky was getting darker, and a faint, metallic scent of blood hit me. I instinctively took a step back.

The livestream chat exploded with another wave of insults.

I tried my best to steady my breathing. Through the dim light, I could make out the living room's messy state.

Chairs and all sorts of random junk lay tipped over everywhere. There were strange wet stains on the entryway floor, and a stale, moldy smell hung in the air.

Andrew took a step closer. He looked down at me with a faint smile and softened his tone a little. "You can still back out right now, if you want. After all, isn't that your favorite choice?"

I wondered if he was talking about that time long ago, when I'd run off and abandoned him, afraid of public backlash.

For some reason, I suddenly remembered what Ethan had told me. "Andrew doesn't trust you anyway."

In the dim light, my nails dug into my palm, the pain sharp. As I was about to back out, my phone buzzed.

It was a message from Emily, sent from the caregiver's phone. [I've behaved myself and listened to the caregiver. Mom, I'm waiting for you to come back.]

Then there were two photos.

One was an empty plate. Emily had finished every bite of the food.

The other was her lying in bed, tucked under the covers, her eyes barely open as she peeked at the camera.

I gently brushed my finger over the screen.

Andrew once owned the most cherished part of me. Now my child filled that void.

For some reason, all that fear and hesitation suddenly vanished.

There was nothing to be scared of. I was dying anyway. I was only afraid I wouldn't leave enough money for Emily to live well after I was gone.

I took a step forward and walked inside. I reached out and flipped the switch on the entryway wall, and the living room was instantly flooded with light, bright as day.

With how much Andrew hated me, I figured he'd have damaged the lights, too. I guessed he slipped up sometimes.

The living room was a total disaster. There was barely any space to step, and the floor was littered with dried bloodstains.