"Elise... she's about to be cremated," Grace choked out.
Andrew froze mid-action, his brows furrowing deeply in irritation. "Her final journey? You people are really putting on quite the act, aren’t you?"
"Put Elise on the phone! Or we’ll meet in court!"
On the other end of the line, Grace finally broke down, her voice trembling with rage and despair. "Elise is really dead! How is she supposed to answer your call?"
"She loved you so much, yet you won’t even show up for her final send-off. Andrew, you heartless beast!"
Andrew’s patience snapped. Muttering a curse under his breath, he abruptly ended the call, his face dark as ink.
Sitting in the passenger seat, Kimberly hunched over, her shoulders trembling uncontrollably.
Andrew forced himself to suppress his frustration and offered some half-hearted reassurance. "We’re almost at the hospital. There won’t be a scar, don’t worry."
Kimberly pressed her lips tightly together and murmured a soft "Mm," lifting her head to gaze out of the window.
Her face betrayed no sign of concern. Instead, it radiated triumph and satisfaction, as though a well-executed plan had succeeded.
A chill ran through Elise’s ghostly form. Her earlier suspicions felt increasingly validated.
If Kimberly could orchestrate an accident to kill her, did that mean she could also harm her parents?
If her parents were gone, then everything that belonged to the Watson family would inevitably fall into Andrew’s hands.
The thought sent Elise into a cold sweat. Her jaw trembled violently, and her cheeks ached from clenching her teeth.
What could she do? What options did she have?
How could she warn her parents to beware of Kimberly?
She racked her brains, only to realize with despair that she was utterly powerless.
No one could see her. She couldn’t touch anything.
Guilt, regret, and hatred twisted together, swallowing her whole.
She hated herself—for her blindness in life, for her helplessness in death. She had not only met a tragic end but might also drag her parents into the abyss.
The traffic light turned green, and Andrew stepped on the gas. His phone rang again.
It was a call from the traffic police.
"Is this the owner of the Bentley with license plate ending in 0312?"
Andrew frowned in confusion. "Yes, that’s me. What’s the issue?"
"You can’t leave your car in the middle of the road. Please come and have it towed immediately."
Andrew’s expression shifted slightly, and he slammed on the brakes, the tires screeching against the asphalt.
"What are you talking about?"
The officer, sensing his unease, kindly explained again, "Your car was involved in a serious accident and is totaled. I understand it’s hard to accept losing a loved one, but leaving it there obstructs traffic..."
Elise’s mind jolted with realization. The car the officer was describing was the very one she had been driving when she died.
Horns blared and curses flew from the cars behind them, but Andrew ignored it all.
"Lost someone? Who died?"
Suddenly, Andrew slumped back into his seat, his face pale as a sheet. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.
The officer, realizing that Andrew was completely in the dark, shuffled some papers before continuing,
"The deceased was Elise... a double fatality. she and her unborn baby died in that car accident!"
