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Chapter 11

I watched the scene unfold with cold detachment, holding the azaleas tightly in my arms as I prepared to walk past him.

But then he stepped in front of me, holding out a wilted azalea, blocking my way.

……

“Fiona, do you like it?”

I sighed. He thought I was my mother.

I took the flower from his trembling hand, and as he looked at me with hope in his eyes, I threw it to the ground and crushed it under my foot.

I spoke softly, “Don’t you know? Fiona Lincoln has been dead for a long time. You killed her. When she was bedridden and suffering, you were in the next room, fooling around with the housekeeper.”

His shy smile shattered. His face twisted in agony as if he suddenly remembered everything.

He dropped to his knees, desperately clawing at the flower embedded in the cement.

“I’m sorry, Fiona. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me… please forgive me…”

Tears and snot streamed down his face as he cried out in despair.

He remembered. He was begging for my mom’s forgiveness.

But she wo
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