Leopold and Matthew had just finished loading the Abernathy family into the van, including Cormac, when the stench inside hit them like a wave, almost driving them back out the door. But seeing Vivienne and the others frozen by the bedside, Leopold steeled himself and stepped inside.

The woman on the bed was a shadow of her former self, her hair tangled and matted like weeds upon the pillow. Her face was streaked with dirt, and it looked like the Abernathys hadn't bothered to clean her in ages. If it weren't for the faint rise and fall of her chest, Leopold might have mistaken her for a corpse.

Wait a minute!

Those features...

How come she looked a bit like Percival?

Realizing this, Leopold's pupils dilated, his finger pointing shakily at the woman on the bed.

Then he glanced at Percival, whose stony face was unreadable, and noticed the air around him growing colder and heavier. Leopold took a step back, feeling as if his throat had been seized. He couldn't manage to utter a complete sentence.

Finally, it was Vivienne who broke the silence. "Mr. Wolf, let's get her out of here first."

She was genuinely shocked. They had only come to fetch a witness back to Rivenwood, and here they were, stumbling upon the very person Percival had spent years searching for.

Mr. Wolf's aunt, the Ellington heiress-Holly Ellington!

"Gavin Abernathy!"

headlights that flickered before Vivienne's eyes. Percival, with lips pressed together and eyes as cold as ice, stared into the abyss

to

hoarse, almost eerie in the pitch-black setting, yet Vivienne heaved a sigh of relief as she said, "Mr. Wolf, trust me, I will heal your aunt." Percival's grim expression softened slightly. He shifted, leaning his head against Vivienne's shoulder.

bubbling up inside him toward Gavin and

heiress, she would be placed in an unknown hospital with professional care to at

Percival had pulled back the covers, even he couldn't suppress the rising

foul stench lingering around the Abernathy property came

blanket was Holly's withered body, wounds

that moment, Percival

that those people were still useful. But the agony he felt for Holly and the hatred for the

bury his head deeper into Vivienne's stomach, his clenched

thin fabric, Vivienne swallowed hard, her hand gently caressing his hair as a chill flashed in her eyes. "Mr. Wolf, the dead do not deserve our hatred." Matthew glanced up through the rear-view mirror at Vivienne and pursed

time he had seen such

was formidable, but

just hand their life over

at the caller ID before saying, "Vivienne, it's

"Hand it over."

the phone

Draven's voice, cool yet tinged with anger,

has the Abernathy family done now?" Vivienne didn't need to guess; she knew

up Mrs. Littleton's parents' graves. They've taken the ashes and

grip on the phone tightened as she

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