The next morning, as the soft beams of sunlight filtered through the windows in Anabel’s room, Anabel was busy at her desk, clicking away on her system. Her fingers were moving rapidly over her computer keyboard as she worked through tasks with total focus.
Even though she seemed focused, her mind was restless. She had been debating whether or not to visit Sylvester and Vanessa that morning. Desmond’s words had burrowed deep into her thoughts, creating an unsettling doubt that she couldn’t shake. She needed answers. She needed to confirm what was true. She wasn't ready for another heartbreak. Not when she hasn't even recovered from the first heartbreak.
Hours passed, and finally, she leaned back in her chair, exhaling sharply as she finished her work. She closed her laptop and rubbed her temples as she tried to clear her thoughts. With a quiet sigh, she got up and stretched before heading to the bathroom for a quick shower.
As the warm water cascaded down her skin, her thoughts continued to go wild. Could Sylvester have been lying to her all along? Was Vanessa truly his cousin, or had she fallen into a carefully crafted illusion? The uncertainty was maddening, and there was only one way to settle it—she had to go and see them herself. The first step was to check if she actually had a cut.
After taking her bath, she dried herself, pulled her hair into a loose bun, and put on a simple but elegant outfit. She dabbed her costly perfume lightly on her wrists and neck while staring at her reflection in the mirror.
Her expression was serious, as if she was going there to arrest them. When she was done, she grabbed her purse, slid her phone into it, and walked toward the door.
Before leaving, she decided to call her father, as she always does whenever she wants to go out. He had been staying home more often these days, preferring the quiet of his villa.
She called him, "Daddy! I'm going out!" It was loud enough for him to hear. But unfortunately, he didn't answer. She frowned and called him again, but he didn't answer. Her dad normally answers at the first call.
Her chest tightened slightly as an unfamiliar wave of unease crept over her. Her father was always in his room, always available to answer her calls. It wasn’t like him to ignore her. She mumbled some words and decided to visit his room and check him out.
As she walked through the hallway, something about the silence in the villa felt heavier than usual. As she reached his bedroom door, she raised a hand and knocked softly.
“Dad?” She called, but no response. She knocked again, louder this time. “Dad, are you there?”
She was expecting a call, but again, she didn't get any. A cold shiver ran down her spine, and without waiting any longer, she pushed the door open.
What she saw made her heart drop. Her dad was lying motionless on the floor. His face was pale, his body still. An inhaler was resting beside him. It was discarded as if it had slipped from his grasp.
Anabel's eyes widened in fear as panic set in. “Daddy!” she screamed and rushed toward him. Her knees landed on the floor as she grabbed his shoulders, shaking him desperately. “Daddy! What happened to you? Wake up! Please!”
Her hands trembled as she pressed her fingers against his neck, searching for a pulse. The seconds stretched into eternity, and the fear inside her grew unbearable.
“No, no, no…” she muttered with a shaky voice. Tears welled up in her eyes as she shook him again, harder this time. “Dad, please wake up! Say something!” She picked up the inhaler and tried to use it, but she noticed it has finished.