Chapter 91

Hank's words hit Chase like a cold shower, leaving him soaked and shivering. Sensing Chase's grim expression, Hank attempted to soften the blow. "But hey, there are always exceptions. Maybe the person you're searching for is alright." However, his insincerity was evident.

I wasn't focused on Chase's reaction; I was more concerned about my father's awareness of my predicament. The car was shrouded in darkness, and my father sat with his eyes closed, resting against the seat. I could only see his tightly pursed lips and clenched fists on the armrest.

I recalled a time when my father was tender and caring, like when Nicole disappeared. He cherished me, calling me his precious gem. But since Nicole's machinations, my family's trust in me had eroded, and my parents' obvious favoritism toward Nicole had driven us apart. It had been a long time since I had seen him smile at me.

His phone rang, jolting me from my thoughts. After speaking with my mother about my grandmother, he appeared visibly distressed. Though not a man of many words, I knew he was deeply worried about her; he was the most devoted son.

He rubbed his forehead, and Chase murmured some comforting words before the car fell silent again. The silence was oppressive. We drove all night and finally reached a park just before dawn. The sparse streetlights offered little illumination, the darkness swallowing everything beyond their weak glow. I thought I heard cries—both men's and women's—echoing through the air, sending chills down my spine.

Chase fiddled with the rosary beads on his wrist, seeking solace. "Is Amanda… here?" he asked, his voice rough.

My father's expression was stern and conflicted. He was torn, wishing both that I was and wasn't there. As Hank had implied, what good could come from anyone ending up in a place like this? Even if they found me, could a damaged version of me still be Chase's wife or a member of the Kennedy family?

I felt like a joke. No, less than a joke; I was shattered.

A black SUV sped past, the driver—a typical local in a floral shirt—tossing a cigarette butt from the half-open window with a look of annoyance. Just as I was about to look away, I spotted someone in the backseat.

It was Derek. Mark had mentioned he'd flown to Shadowmoor, but what was he doing here? Could he be looking for me? The thought barely registered before I dismissed it. What was I to him? Even Chase hesitated to come here for me. Derek had mobility issues. Why would he travel here to find me?

The car window quickly rolled up, concealing Derek's cold, detached face. Lost in his own thoughts, Chase didn't notice.

We stopped, and someone who had made prior arrangements came to guide us. As Chase stepped out, a man in slippers appeared to lead us inside. This place was hell incarnate. Women's cries, sometimes punctuated by the sound of a slap, could be heard through the walls.

"Stop, please stop! I'll do anything; anything at all!" a woman's desperate voice echoed.

Chase's fists clenched, perhaps imagining my ordeal. He asked urgently, "Where is the person I'm looking for?"

Chapter 92