Chapter 4

Wendy was Wilbur's girlfriend, and thanks to her, I could move freely in the mansion area.

Over the next couple of days, I figured out the routine of the bodyguards outside the house.

I packed a few pieces of luggage and planned my route. With the savings accumulated from Silas's support over the years, I was confident I could maintain a good life after leaving here.

However, I still asked Wendy to help consign some of my paintings to a gallery.

Fragments of my memories were hidden in those paintings, and I didn't want them left behind.

However, on the day I planned to leave, Kaitlin unexpectedly showed up.

The moment she stepped into the mansion, she headed straight for the second floor.

The butler tried to stop her, "Mr. Hudson doesn't allow anyone upstairs."

Kaitlin sneered, turning to Silas, who had followed her up, "Oh? Is there a place in your house that I can't go?"

"Of course not," Silas replied, waving off the butler impatiently and personally leading Kaitlin upstairs.

I had just taken down the last painting on the wall when I turned to find her looking at me with a half-smile.

She entered the room with her arm crossed and a confident stride, casting a condescending gaze over my works.

"Why aren't these sent to me?" She asked Silas, though her eyes were coldly fixed on me, then drifted down to the paintbrush in my hand.

Silas hesitated, stammering, "Sandy isn't satisfied with them."

He lied. Those paintings were ones I had created over the past few months, during which he occasionally asked me what they depicted.

"These are fireworks in the sky at a wedding hall. And these are doves symbolizing happiness singing..." He just joked with me as he could not depict the paintings without my explanations.

Yet, unexpectedly, he kept these and even had Wilbur frame and hang them.

Kaitlin frowned as she scrutinized the paintings. Then she suddenly bit her lip and gave one a kick. "Just burn them! If these paintings get out, how should I justify myself to others?"

I realized she was worried about people comparing these with her publicly known works.

Panicked, I reached out instinctively to stop her, "Don't..."

But Silas hesitated only for a few seconds before calling the butler in. "Take them out and burn them."

"Silas!" I couldn't help but cry out. I hadn't shed a tear even when I knew what he was planning, but now my eyes were burned by my tears.

He hesitated, but he became resolute when he met Kaitlin's mocking gaze. "Just burn them."

I stumbled out only to see my paintings were piled together and consumed by flames.

The fire crackled and popped, casting sparks into the air.

I collapsed to the ground with memories flashing through my mind like the crackling flames.

A mansion, reminiscent of an ancient castle, was ablaze. The fire was lighting up the night sky. Someone urgently dragged me away, muffling my cries, saying, "Sandy, you mustn't die! You have to live!"

...

At the same time, outside the mansion area, the tinted car window rolled down slightly. Charlie looked inside with a heavy gaze. "Is this the place?"

The driver nodded, "The gallery people said so. They secretly followed someone here before."

He was puzzled why Charlie was so interested in a few consigned paintings at the gallery. Perhaps because their style was too similar to his fiancée Kaitlin's.

After asking the gallery owner, Charlie learned there had been previous consignments from the same painter and he wanted to know who that was. Then he tracked the painter to this heavily guarded place. The name of the person consigning the paintings was Wendy.

Charlie carefully recalled her appearance, trying to confirm if he had seen her at the Ramos family before.

The driver suddenly muttered in confusion, "Why is Ms. Ellis here?"

Not far away, Kaitlin and Silas walked out together and got into his Maybach.

Charlie, however, seemed unsurprised. He looked down at a blurred figure on his phone screen. It was an old photo that had been restored.

"She isn't her after all..."