Eventually, my assistant found the contact number for Kelly’s primary doctor. With a pounding heart, I dialed the number. They told me Kelly was already dead. In a Texas city where it was spring all year round, Kelly had died. By the time I rushed over, she had already been buried.
I recognized the man who was receiving me; he was the one who drove Kelly back that morning–her doctor, Forbes. I landed a punch straight to his face, gripping his collar, my eyes burning with rage as I roared, “Was it you who took her away? Why would you do this? Even after her death, you buried her !”
Forbes retaliated with a punch. “You dare ask me why? What were you like when she was alive? This was her request. She said she felt restrained all her
life. After death, she wanted to wander freely.”
We ended up in a physical struggle, both of us gasping for breath and showing signs of a fight after half an hour. With a lingering sense of reluctance, I
hesitated and asked, “Did she… leave any messages for me?”
Forbes glared at me and coldly replied, “Mr. Williams, what do you want to hear? Do you want to know how much Kelly suffered in the late stages of cancer , vomiting blood every day, unable to eat or sleep, but never crying out in pain? Or do you want to know that when she passed, she didn’t even have family by her side–she died alone?”
He paused, sighed, and continued, “She didn’t mention you, but I saw many crumpled paper notes with writing in her room’s trash can. I think they may be related to you.”
My heart felt as if it had been severely hammered, painful to the point of trembling. “Can you take me to see her room?”
Forbes led me there and pointed at the desk. “Most of what she did every day was sit here, staring blankly. She said she liked spring because many years ago, someone appeared in her life during that season, like a beam of sunlight shining into her dark world, bringing her warmth. But later, that sunlight became hell.”
Tears began to flow uncontrollably.
“Actually, even until her death, she never mentioned you. It was my decision to call you here. I just wanted you to feel her pain. Why should she suffer sleepless nights, lose her appetite, and cough up blood constantly, while you’re out having a merry time with beauties every night?”
“This is her voice recorder; it was always under her pillow.” Forbes placed the device on the table, and when he left, he shot me a cold glare.
I sat in the room all afternoon. The sunlight seeped through the glass, warming the space, but my body felt ice–cold, trembling as if I were unable to breathe. With shaking hands, I turned on the voice recorder, hoping it contained her final words. Instead, it revealed the truth of everything.
She recorded her thoughts but failed to vindicate herself. She must have been deeply disappointed in me, perhaps even hated me. Only in death did I come to know these things. What on earth did I do to her? I’m the damned one here!
She had told me more than once that she was the little girl, but I had been hopelessly bewitched. Not only did I not believe her, but I also tortured her while treasuring someone false. Grief overwhelmed me.
Covering my mouth, I cried until my eyes were dry. The heartache was like a brutal tear, leaving me gasping for air. Only in the middle of the night slowly unfold the crumpled papers from the trash bin. Each page bore only three words: “Stanley.” Her handwriting was heavy, tearing through some pages. I couldn’t tell if it was pain or hatred.
Every letter felt like a sharp blade, slicing my heart to shreds, blood running wild. I clutched the only remnants she’d left, lying on the ground, crying until I couldn’t make a sound.
Later, I took the few remaining papers from Kelly’s bag and spread them on the bed. “Kelly, I’m going to do something; I’ll be back soon.” I drove frantically straight to the Walton family residence.
Later, I took the few remaining papers from Kelly’s bag and spread them on the bed. “Kelly, I’m going to do something; I’ll be back soon.” I drove frantically straight to the Walton family residence.
Upon seeing me, Beth was about to throw herself at me, but I shoved her away, squatted down, grabbed her hair, and in a terrifyingly harsh voice demanded, “Why did you deceive me? You are not the one; Kelly is!”
At that moment, I was shrouded in a murderous aura, my sanity teetering on the brink of collapse. Beth was terrified and began to cry, begging for mercy. Mr. and Mrs. Walton also attempted to implore me. I glared fiercely at each of them, my gaze finally resting on Mrs. Walton. My eyes were bloodshot, my whole body emanating a bloodthirsty fury. “Kelly is your biological daughter. You knew she was the one I was seeking, yet you aided Beth in deceiving me. In the end, you even agreed to let me torment her. Do you still consider yourself a mother?”
“Stanley, did we force you to torment her? You’re the real instigator here. Don’t shove every mistake onto us. She once told you the truth; did you believe her? No, you didn’t. If we are the murderers, then you are the accomplice. Just like us, you’re no better!”
Beth laughed maniacally. Every word she spoke was a painful truth. My temples throbbed violently; I had been deceived by Beth for so many years.
My body was taut, my hands clenched into fists, knuckles prominently white. I moved forward once more, landing heavy blows on Beth, drawing blood with each punch and lashing out at anyone attempting to stop me. In the end, the three members of the Walton family lay on the ground, barely clinging to life. I had no recollection of how I exited that day; all I knew was that my heart was bleeding, as though being ripped apart again and again. The Walton household went bankrupt, all within one night. The Williams Corporation spared no expense in bringing down the Walton family.
I wanted all who had harmed Kelly to pay the price, including myself. Beth knelt before me, crying and begging for mercy. I merely gave her a cold glance. “This is your retribution. I won’t kill you; I’ll let you live to suffer.”
I mobilized all the resources of the Williams family, sending Beth and Mrs. Walton to a war–ridden country. How long they survive depends on their luck. This is their retribution, my retribution, which I will personally execute.
Returning home, I lay on my bed, staring at the other half of the paper, as if Kelly were still here.
I managed to muster a smile at the corner of my mouth. One by one, sleep swallowed up my last bit of consciousness. It felt as though I could s her receding figure in the distance.
(End of the Story]
End
