The man lying on the bed was as still as a stone. Valentine Taylor began to feel slightly creeped out. If he had not heard Mr. Rosewood’s voice through the intercom just a few moments ago, he would have thought… Hold on. If Mr. Rosewood was indeed dead, then whose voice was that through the intercom…? Valentine felt the hairs on his back stand as the thought occurred to him.

“Mr. Rosewood…?” Valentine called out cautiously.“Go ahead and open it,” the figure lying on the bed finally croaked out weakly.

Charlie immediately walked toward the windows and pulled the blinds open before unlatching the windows. Sunlight filtered into the room together with a breeze of fresh air, brightening up the dreary space. It also made it possible for the group to see Mr. Rosewood clearly. He was a gaunt old man with gray skin, sunken features and skinny as a bag of bones. His eyes could barely open as his unfocused pupils finally landed on Lilly.

“Did you say… you found Amelia’s remains?” he rasped, clearly struggling for breath. It was like he was summoning all his remaining energy to speak to Lilly.

Josh covered his face with his hands, while Valentine’s legs felt shaky. How could a living person look so terrifying? Lilly on the other hand walked up to the old man fearlessly and placed her hand around his bony arm.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Rosewood. I know where she is,” Lilly comforted the old man. The red string bracelet around her tiny wrist began to emit a weak flow as she spoke, and the energy from the bracelet seemed to ebb and flow into the old man’s body. Everyone else could almost sense the dreadful energy in the room lifting and disappearing slowly as the old man’s eyes seemed to come back to life.

was able to prop himself up weakly, trying his best to sit up. Noticing this, Valentine immediately went over to help him. “Mr. Rosewood, why are you

strong smell of medicine, Valentine could not discern any other rotting scent coming from the old man. As he looked around the bedroom, he noticed that it was rather clean and well-kept, despite the dark and gloomy interior. Old Mr. Rosewood was just a regular

slow sigh. “What’s there to take care? My days are numbered…”

grandpa in front of her. There was an incense candle burning weakly on the top of his head. Master Pablo had once told her that the burning incense represents

him without waiting for him to ask again. “Her name was Amelia Rosewood, and her best friend was Roxanne Larson… am I

Amelia…” he wheezed.

Mr. Rosewood. The police won’t let you near the scene even if

action and rushed out

keep

against my conscience. When my worker’s parents turned ill, I gave them money to get treatment and even helped them contact

ever so slightly. Did the

to Old Mr. Rosewood again. “Grandpa

feelings, so she would tear the tags off her dresses and tell Roxanne she didn’t want them,” he told Lilly. “We were also always fond of Roxanne

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