Patrick took me back to the same café. This time, the iced tea was replaced with a hot chocolate. He knew I needed warmth at that moment. Holding the hot chocolate, its sweet aroma eased some of my tension. Patrick continued to refrain from pressing me, sitting across from me in silence, patiently waiting for me to speak first.
“Patrick,” I took a deep breath, “you’ve suspected me for a while, haven’t you?”
He just smiled, not saying a word. His smile was as warm as the hot chocolate.
Tears welled up in my eyes again, and he handed me a tissue. Sitting beside me, he gently patted my shoulder.
“Laura, I did suspect you for quite some time,” he whispered. “Even though I’ve been abroad these years, I’ve maintained contact with Cameron. His biggest concern has always been his sister’s death, so we’ve discussed this matter extensively.”
“He often expressed his suspicions about you, but, Laura… he’s not a cop. Do you understand what I mean?”
I looked up at him, nodded numbly.
I understood. No matter how much Cameron suspected me, he only scratched the surface. Patrick, being a cop, would investigate based on Cameron’s suspicions and seek evidence to confirm or dismiss them. So, in reality, I had been under Patrick’s surveillance for quite some time.
“I know Cameron has been mistreating you. I couldn’t stand it, and we argued about it. I told him that Anne’s death couldn’t be blamed on you; you were just a child at that time…”
“But, Laura,” Patrick rubbed his hands, looking at me with a profound gaze, “This whole thing is really suspicious. If both you and Anne were kidnapped back then, why did she suffer such a tragic fate while you emerged unscathed? This is the biggest loophole in your entire story!”
Cameron pinpointed this loophole accurately, and it became the reason for his hatred, a hatred that lasted for fifteen years.
“And I’ve also thought of something else,” Patrick continued, “How could you not remember your childhood? The moment you lost your memory coincided with Anne’s murder. Isn’t that too much of a coincidence? You were only eight years old at the time. It’s understandable for an eight-year-old child to lose memory after a shock, but isn’t a child’s instinct to look for their parents? Why didn’t you show any signs of that? Instead, you followed Mr. Lynch back to The Lynch Family.”
I couldn’t utter a single word. In that moment, it felt like someone had stripped away the last piece of my modesty, leaving me exposed and powerless.
“Laura,” Patrick looked at me, opening a small notebook, “Now tell me everything, every detail.”
The secrets that had been suppressed for fifteen years were peeled away one by one. It was a painful tearing of flesh, but after the pain, there was an unprecedented sense of relief. I no longer had to live with the burden of secrets, and tonight, I might finally get a good night’s sleep…
“That’s the whole story,” I said with my head bowed. “Jacob Campbell is my father. I don’t know why he kidnapped Anne, but I know he didn’t really want to kill her… he was expecting money from that person. Anne died, and he didn’t get a penny.”
I remembered those times when my dad often called, starting with a submissive tone and gradually becoming impatient. He even threatened to quit several times. Later, he vented all his anger on Anne. Whenever he felt frustrated, he would beat her until, in a fit of rage, he cut off her tongue, sealing her fate.
“Who is that person?” Patrick’s eyes widened with curiosity.
I shook my head. I knew he wanted to follow this lead to uncover the true mastermind behind it all, but unfortunately, I was only eight years old at the time, and over a decade had passed. Many things, I genuinely forgot.
“I didn’t have a mother from a young age; she was apparently driven away by my father. In my childhood memories, my dad often got drunk, and there was frequently no money at home. When I was hungry, I’d go to the neighbors for some food… I moved with my dad a lot, so I didn’t get much education, and by the age of eight, I couldn’t read.”
“Until I met Anne…” I recalled that time. When Anne was brought in by my dad, I thought he had found me a companion. I was overjoyed, talking to her every day, digging out the few storybooks I had, and reading the pictures with her. However, Anne pointed to the words and read them to me, saying she learned these stories at school. I asked what school was, and she said it was a heavenly place.
Since then, I longed for that place. In those few days, the initial tension that Anne felt when she was captured began to dissipate. She told me many things I had never heard of, like school, libraries, operas, concerts, and the banquets often held in high society. She told me her favorite was a red velvet cake made with rose petals.
She also talked about her home, a house with a garden and a study. There was even a big swing in the yard. I listened intently, and it seemed like a palace to me. However, as she continued, she burst into tears, crying about missing her family, her mom, and dad… Later, her tongue was gone, and all I saw was blood.
“Laura!” Patrick called me several times, and I finally snapped out of it.
“Patrick…” I said, “Please, don’t tell Cameron about this, okay?”
He looked at me with a complex expression. After a long while, he gently agreed, “Okay.”
At that moment, I almost wanted to kneel down and thank him. Truly, I feared my identity being exposed to the world. I was afraid that people would know my father was a kidnapper and a murderer.
After Anne’s death, I became her replacement and entered The Lynch Family. Finally, I was close to that palace, the heavenly school, and the life I had longed for. I admit I was vain, unwilling to let go of the good days, but what I feared the most was the vast difference in status with Cameron.
I’m afraid I’m not good enough for him..
If I had a better background, if I were born into a loving, ordinary family, if I grew up in an environment filled with love and security, could I stand by Cameron’s side as naturally as Queenie? Standing by him without feeling inferior. In that case, could our love be on equal terms?
But why did fate give me such a destiny?
I was unwilling to return to my past life, but the love I aspired to would eventually trample me into the mud.
“Laura, I promise you, I won’t tell Cameron,” Patrick held my hand. I was surprised; his hand was warm, giving a reassuring feeling.
His gaze was gentle, seemingly with a hint of pity.
“This is not your fault,” he said. “Your father committed the crime, it has nothing to do with you.”
“But he’s still my father.”
“As long as you don’t talk, no one will know.”
“Patrick…”
He waved his hand, giving me a gentle smile. The hot chocolate had cooled, but in my heart, I felt an immense warmth.
“Patrick, I also want to ask you, how long will my father be sentenced?”
Patrick’s eyes dimmed, and after a moment of silence, he told me, “We’re responsible for custody; the sentencing is up to the court.”
“Will he be sentenced to death?”
After all, he was my biological father. Though I had once hated him, and these past fifteen years I hadn’t thought about him, the idea of him possibly facing death, execution, still caused a dull pain in my heart.
“It’s hard to say,” Patrick said. “Don’t dwell on it. The law will judge every person fairly. Overthinking won’t change anything.”
I nodded, and we left that café.
…
I sat in my room at night, unable to sleep, and even felt a bit absent-minded. Suddenly, the bedroom light clicked on. I was startled, only to see Carter limping in from the doorway.
His cold smirk flashed before my eyes.
“What are you doing?”
Before I could say anything, a stack of photos fell onto my face.
“Carter, you…”
I hadn’t finished speaking when I caught a glimpse of those photos. Every single one depicted Patrick and me…
We were in the café, Patrick sitting next to me, holding my hand while tears streamed down my face…
I trembled all over, a shiver ran down my spine as I stared at the man before me.
“Are you following me?” I asked, feeling a bit unnerved.
“With my legs like this, can I keep up with you?” He chuckled, picked up a photo, and flicked it with his finger. “Nicely taken… capturing our Laura like a female star. Look at those tearful eyes, so pitiful. Which man wouldn’t be moved?”