[Exactly, she just couldn’t face the fact that she had killed her own child, so she shifted all the blame onto Hailee. Hailee, you did nothing wrong! Captain Hiddleston’s wife is the real murderer here!]
In moments, my social media was swamped, wave after wave of private messages pouring in.
[Bitch! It’s a shame for Captain Hiddleston to have such a useless wife! Why don’t you just drop dead?!]
[I hope you drown. I hope your next child drowns. I hope your whole family drowns!]
[If that’s how things are, then we common people might as well wait for death when trouble comes. Otherwise, just one rescue call, and we’d be dragged out and exposed by someone like you. Is there no justice left?!]
Among the endless tide of messages, one private message stood out, its profile picture showing two hands tightly interlocked.
[Sis, see? She really did nothing wrong. As a housewife, why don’t you show us all the tricks you have left?]
I tapped on the profile picture. It opened to reveal two pairs of hands tangled together on a large bed, the kind of image any adult would instantly understand.
The man’s hand bore a scar across the back, the same scar Paul had gotten when he shielded me from a knife.
But now, those hands pierced straight into my heart.
A wave of bone-deep exhaustion washed over me. Just as I was about to turn off my phone, that number called again.
The voice on the other end was hoarse, cold, and stripped of emotion.
"Leader, Hailee’s family background is a bit complicated. Do we need to adjust the removal plan?"
Of course, I understood that Paul’s position as captain of the rescue team existed only because of Hailee’s family.
But in this moment, I no longer cared.
"No adjustments. Proceed as planned."
"And keep a record of those slandering me online. Trace them along the network cables, and give them something they won’t forget."
Did they think they could hide forever behind a keyboard?
Fools. Ignorant, reckless fools.
Paul thought the Reeves family’s business at home had withered away. But he had never known that the true power of the Reeves family had always been abroad.
For nearly a century, the Reeves family had commanded its own underground army overseas. Making someone vanish from the face of the earth was as effortless as lifting a finger.
Sure enough, the moment I ended the call, the very footage Paul had been desperate to bury since the day of the incident landed in my hands.
I opened it. Hailee lounged in a revealing swimsuit, striking flirtatious poses with her friends while casually dialing the rescue hotline.
I didn’t need to see more. With a flick of my finger, I forwarded the video online.
Before the main course, I thought it was only fair to serve them a little appetizer.
Once everything was set in motion, I drove straight toward the funeral home.
My daughter’s white dress was snarled with seaweed, the green tendrils coiled tightly like a cruel embrace. The chill of her skin crept up through my fingers, piercing straight into my heart, a thousand sharp needles pressing in until I could barely draw breath.
I clutched her tiny, cold hand and cried, my sobs echoing through the still air.
Then, after a long, aching silence, my phone blared to life, its ringtone harsh and jarring in the morgue.
Paul’s voice thundered through the line, his teeth clenched in rage.
"Claire, what vile methods did you use to get those videos?!"
The words hung heavy before he caught himself, fumbling to amend them.
"Claire, who’s the bastard that made those fake videos for you?! Do you even understand how much trouble you’ve brought to Hailee by putting those lies online?!"
A delicate, tear-filled voice followed, trembling at his side.
"Paul, I’m so frightened… I just received another threatening message…"
