Chapter 589 Parent-Child Relationship
"Why don't you go tell Emma that!" Michael sneered. "See if she still believes you!"
George stumbled into the living room, collapsing onto his knees in front of Emma. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, split open by Michael's punch, staining the pristine marble floor.
"Emma," he reached out a trembling hand, but it froze mid-air. "I swear on my life, I really..."
"Get your filthy hands off me!" Emma slapped his hand away, her nails leaving four bloody scratches on his skin. "Do you know Seraphine was asking me last night, 'When is Uncle George taking me to the carousel again?'"
Emma's voice suddenly rose to a piercing scream. "Seraphine is only three years old! Three! How could you! How could you!"
Michael pulled Emma into his arms, glaring menacingly at George kneeling on the floor. "Did you hear that? This is the mess you've made."
A shrill ringtone cut through the heavy atmosphere. The police officer answered his phone, his expression gradually hardening.
"They found her," he said, his voice dry. "In the water tower at the abandoned factory on the east side of town. The family needs to identify the body."
Emma's pupils contracted sharply, and she seemed to collapse as if her bones had been removed. Michael held her tightly, his own hands trembling uncontrollably.
"Let's go," Michael's voice was hoarse, his gaze like a knife cutting into George. "You better pray Seraphine is okay."
The fluorescent lights in the hospital hallway buzzed nauseatingly. Emma's nails dug deeply into Michael's arm, each step feeling like walking on blades.
When the white sheet was pulled back, time seemed to freeze.
Seraphine's small body lay on the metal table, her soft black hair matted with mud, her once rosy cheeks now a ghastly gray. Her favorite strawberry dress was torn, revealing bruised arms. The most jarring sight was the dark purple bruise around her neck, like a vicious snake coiled around her.
Emma's scream shattered the glass in the morgue. She threw herself onto Seraphine's cold body, pressing her cheek against Seraphine's face. "Wake up, baby, mommy's here, mommy's taking you home."
Michael's eyes were bloodshot as he punched the wall, his knuckles a bloody mess. He turned and grabbed George by the collar, slamming him against the morgue drawers.
"Do you see this?" he roared, shoving George's head towards Seraphine's body. "Look at what you've done!"
The metal doors clanged loudly, alerting the medical staff outside. But Michael had lost all control, his fists raining down on George. "Bastard! Give me back my Seraphine!"
Emma suddenly went quiet. She gently smoothed Seraphine's dress, humming her favorite lullaby. As she sang, blood welled up from her mouth, splattering onto Seraphine's pale cheek.
"Emma!" Michael let go of George and rushed to catch her collapsing body.
When the medical staff burst in, they found a young mother unconscious beside her daughter's body, two bloodied men, and a little angel forever asleep, her right hand still clutching a pretty little stone, a gift for "Uncle George."
George crawled over, trying to touch Seraphine, but Michael kicked him away. "Get out! You don't deserve to touch her!"
At that moment, Seraphine's tightly clenched hand suddenly relaxed, the stone, mixed with blood, falling in front of George. The once powerful businessman finally broke down, crying like a wounded animal.
Emma fell into a blood-red dream. She saw George holding a knife, standing in front of Sophia. Sophia's terrified eyes froze forever on her face.
"No, Mom!" She tried to run, but her legs felt like they were filled with lead.
The scene shifted. Michael was tied to a chair, and George was pouring gasoline over him. "This is the price for taking Emma from me." The sound of the lighter was crisp, and flames engulfed the man who once protected her from the storm.
The most horrifying was the final scene... Anna, affectionately holding George's arm, stood in front of her bloodied self.
"Bitch, you're finally disappearing." Anna's sweet voice was like a snake's hiss. George's shoe crushed her fingers, the sound of bones breaking clear.
Emma woke up screaming, cold sweat soaking her hospital gown. Outside, the rain poured down, lightning illuminating George's haggard face through the window.
"Get out!" Michael shoved George away from the door. "Haven't you done enough to her?"
Sophia, eyes red, blocked the door. "George, I'm begging you, Emma can't take any more stress."
George's suit was wrinkled, his unshaven face making him look ten years older. He gripped the door handle tightly, his knuckles white. "Just five minutes, let me talk to her..."
"Talk about what? How did you kill Seraphine?" Michael grabbed his collar but let go when he saw Emma's eyes open.
The room fell into a terrifying silence. Four people, eight eyes, the air thick with the smell of blood and disinfectant.
"Let George in," Emma's voice was as light as a feather, but it froze everyone in place.
Michael turned in disbelief. "Emma?"
"I said," she slowly sat up, her frail fingers clutching the bed sheets, "Let George in."
George stumbled to the bedside but stopped a meter away. He shakily pulled out a bracelet from his inner pocket. "I reviewed the surveillance footage hundreds of times and found this behind the ice cream stand."
In George's hand was Anna's favorite diamond bracelet.
"It wasn't an accident," George's voice was hoarse. "It was murder."
George's fingers clutched the diamond bracelet tightly, his knuckles white. The diamonds reflected the cold hospital lights, hurting Emma's eyes.
"That's impossible," Emma's voice trembled, her fingers unconsciously gripping the sheets. "Anna is already dead."
Michael stepped forward, his face dark, blocking George. "Enough! George, how many more lies are you going to tell?"
"Let him finish," Emma's voice suddenly became eerily calm, her bloodshot eyes fixed on George. "I want to know everything."
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