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Chapter 3

Connor's POV

Although only under the water for a while, but the moment I surfaced speaking sunlight still stung my eyes, and in a trance I saw the image of Lydia sinking into the water again.

She waved her hands helplessly, as if trying to grab something, finally, she touched my sleeve, tugging it.

The water was about to pass her mouth, and she was like a scared kitten, with a gurgling sound in her throat begging me.

I looked at Lydia struggling in the water and a voice suddenly appeared next to my ear. "Do you really want her to pay Claire with her life?"

I just watched Lydia struggle and cry out as she grabbed my sleeve until the river slowly submerged her.

No! I can't lose her!

The thought of this little one about to die under the water brought an unexplained wave of fear to my heart.

I had to take her from the bottom of the water to the shore.

On the way home I kept thinking, obviously this person I hate so much is going to be killed by my own hands, obviously I should have a sense of revenge, but why in the end I was left with fear.

Am I afraid of losing, or am I afraid of losing her?

My parents died when I was very young, and that was my first experience of loss. When I grew up, I experienced failure and success in business again and again, and then half a month ago my fiancée's disappearance, I have tasted the taste of gain and loss countless times, gain and loss is no longer a thing worth wasting energy to count in my life.

Is it ......? I am afraid of losing her? Afraid of never hearing that childish Carl again?

How can that be! She's just a woman who ruined my happy life!

I shook my head off in annoyance and threw her onto the bed with my hands.

Feeling that I needed something to calm down, I turned into the bathroom and threw myself into the warm tub.

The hot water in the tub gave my tense nerves a moment of relief, and in the dense vapor, I saw the first time I saw Lydia before my eyes.

It was the night of the full moon, and I was on my way when I heard a strange rattling sound coming from the garbage. In a tendency of curiosity, I walked over and found a little girl covered with tear marks and dirty.

"What's your name?" I asked politely out of courtesy.

"......," the little girl said in a slurred voice while she was shedding tears.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you clearly."

"Ly......" the little girl repeated again.

Her repetition of her name seemed no different from the first time, and I could only hear the pronunciation of "Ly" clearly. Her dirty and pathetic appearance, but really like the kitten I picked up Lulu, simply call her Lulu good.

"How about I call you Lulu." I said tentatively.

The little girl nodded with tears in her eyes.

"Come on, I'll take you back." I bent down and extended my hand toward her.

Suddenly, the screen flashed and I saw Lydia dancing, following my instructions without complaint no matter how hard I tried to make it, only to repeat over and over again raucously that Claire's death had nothing to do with her.

She spun around the dance studio, fell down, got up, spun again, fell down again, and repeated the same movements over and over again until I was satisfied.

I saw the pain in her eyes, saw the contradiction, which surprisingly revealed a little satisfaction, what was she satisfying? Could it be that having her play her sister and repeat her sister's habits would give her pleasure?

I looked at her bleeding toes, not without a little regret in my heart, the little girl who once treated herself with all the tenderness she could muster, and now was being constantly tortured by herself.

Suddenly, I got a chill, so those images just now, are just a dream. Is it possible that I still care about this little one in my heart?

I thought of this, I stood up from the bathtub with a crash and walked straight back to the room.

Lydia was lying quietly on the bed, and the maid had changed her into clean clothes. Her long blonde hair was scattered on the bed, and her wheat-colored skin exuded a healthy glow; fortunately, she was still alive.

I looked at her toes, which were almost deformed by the blisters worn out by her dancing shoes, and there was no pain in my heart.

Lifting her pant leg, the skin was covered with bruises. I did this to her, is not a little too much ......?

Driven by guilt, I picked up the medicine box in the room and carefully applied the ointment to her.

At that moment, my cell phone rang.

"Connor, I've faxed the information to you." Locke said dryly on the other end of the line.

"Thanks."

I hung up the phone and walked quickly to the study and picked up the reconnaissance report Locke had sent me about the crash.

The words "human-caused brake failure" hit me like a hammer.

That means that Lydia was probably the one who caused the accident.

In other words, my initial suspicion came true!

That little girl, who was so soft, who usually didn't say much, who didn't speak very loudly every time she opened her mouth, was the one who caused the accident!

That child, who had been so dear to my heart since she was a child, who seemed so harmless and protective, was so vicious as to kill my fiancée and my unborn child!

If I had held out a little longer that day and not let Claire go, would I not have had to face this cruel detection report at this time?

If I had prevented Claire from leaving that day, would Claire still be by my side, dancing for me on the beach?

If I had sent them there that day, would I be with Claire now, happily waiting for our child to come into the world?

My child, it's clear that it's only six short months before we see each other, but Daddy will never see you again!

As a father, the heartache of losing a child is no less than that of a mother!

Lydia, are you really a poor little cat? Or are you actually a tiger disguised as a cat? I'm going to reveal your disguise and make you pay for my fiancée and unborn child's life!

I walked straight to the kitchen, picked up a knife and walked to the room. The servants, seeing my angry attitude, all retreated to the side and no one dared to stop me.

Before I reached the bed, I heard a sob. The vicious woman must have heard my phone call with Locke and cried for herself before she died.

Do you think a few crocodile tears will pay for your sins? If you think I'm going soft like that, you really underestimate me! You are the woman who brought me the revenge of killing my wife and the pain of losing my son!

I thought fiercely as I walked away.

I carried the knife to the bed, expecting to see the woman kneeling by the bed begging me for mercy, begging for my forgiveness, but no.

Everything on the bed was just as I had left it when I left the room, except the woman was curled up in a ball sobbing.

"Get your ass up." I shouted coldly at the woman on the bed.

All I got in reply was a whimper.

"Clang," my hand let go, the knife fell to the ground.

This scene is all too familiar to me.

Uncle Hope and Aunt Wendy used to send the two Lydia sisters to my house when they were on a business trip.

At that time, because everyone was still young, the maids always let the sisters sleep in the same room with me for the convenience of care.

Since my parents were not around and I was sleeping in a strange room, Lydia would always have nightmares in the middle of the night. I could hear her crying from the next bed almost every night in the middle of the night, and occasionally there would be a dream or two.

It wasn't until one night when I was really tired of the noise that I quietly went to Lydia's bed and gently patted her back, just like my mother did when I was a child to put me to sleep, that Lydia's sobbing gradually became less and less.

"Cuddles." Lydia said in a dreamy, slurred voice.

"You're such a pain in the ass when you're so young." I quietly disliked her in my mind and helplessly reached out and hugged her until dawn the next day.

Every time after that, whenever Lydia came to stay at my house, I slept extra carefully every night, keeping an ear out for whimpering sounds in the bed next to me.

Once she started having nightmares at night, I would be the first to go over and pat her back and hug her.

Eventually, this even became a habit for me.

As time went by, Lydia grew up, and her parents didn't need to come to our house anymore when they traveled.

I thought I had long forgotten this habit, but I didn't realize that forgetting was only in my brain, and my body had formed a reflex long ago.

Today, when I saw Lydia having a nightmare because of the shock, my body's muscles reacted even faster than my brain, commanding me to go to the bedside and reach out to gently pick her up as I always do.

I stroked the newly grown fuzz on the corner of her forehead like I was petting a kitten. I cradled her gently, as if I were protecting a precious porcelain doll. I gently patted her back, just like my mother did when I was a little girl putting me to sleep.

Slowly, Lydia calmed down and stopped choking, just like a cat, lazily lying on the bed.

My breathing gradually became calmer, and all the anger I felt when I entered the room dissipated. I kissed her forehead as I had done when I was a child, and a feeling of bewilderment rose up in me.

Looking at this angelic face, recalling all the past as a child, could this seemingly kind girl really be that cruel, could she really kill her sister and unborn nephew?

At this moment, I feel like a person trapped in a fog, unable to see the surrounding scenery, and even more unable to see the direction, these half months, I experienced these things, each one seems to be real, and each one seems to be fiction, who can unravel this mystery for me?

"Lulu ah Lulu, if you hear my thoughts, then please open your eyes and answer me, okay?" I stared at Lulu's face and whispered.

But Lulu lying on the bed didn't even twitch her eyelashes, and I felt ridiculous for my thoughts.

Then, I sighed heavily and buried her head in my chest. "Lulu, what do you think I should do to you then ......"

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