Chapter 325

Stevenson walked over to the bed, but before he could sit down, he froze in place. For a long moment, he stood there, then finally perched on the edge of the mattress with his back to her, silent.

Charlotte stepped in front of him. “Mr. Donovan, you know about the 322 child abduction case, don’t you? You saw those two kids who escaped into the village, right?”

“I…” Stevenson couldn’t meet her gaze; sweat was breaking out along his

hairline.

“The girl you saw that day–was she wearing a pale yellow sweater, with white overalls on top?”

Stevenson was silent for so long, the guilt over his own daughter’s situation seemed to press visibly on him. At last, he looked up. “I should’ve realized that girl was yours.”

Charlotte drew in a deep breath. “So, the person I begged for help before I lost consciousness… that was you?”

“It was me,” Stevenson admitted, his voice thick with remorse. “I’m sorry, child. My family was desperate. That reward money–it was too much for us to resist. I agreed to let my daughter pretend to be Mr. Howard’s savior. I kept telling myself, if we could just get that money, we’d finally escape this life. We could buy a house in the city and live decently, like real people.”

He wiped his tears away with hands that bore the scars of old wounds. “I never thought my daughter would end up like this. I really didn’t…”

Charlotte’s hand curled into a fist at her side.

She remembered the surge of hope and relief she’d felt when, after escaping death, she’d stumbled upon someone from the village. She’d thought, in that moment, how lucky they were.

She’d screamed for help.

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Chapter 325

last, someone had

home address, everything she could

in a hospital bed. Rachel had been there, along

remembered saying her bracelet was

“You’re lucky to be

matter about a bracelet?”

the bracelet was her mother’s talisman, something to keep her safe. Rachel’s words had stung, and for a long time she couldn’t stop

eventually, the memory of the bracelet

survived those darkest days with her, only Evander

made it out alive.

was the only

she twisted her ankle during their escape, Evander had carried her on his back, stumbling through the

him to leave

told her she’d saved his life,

thorns tearing at their skin. Evander had shielded her, his

that ran red

hiding in that bleak wilderness, drinking dew and gnawing on wild berries. When Evander’s fever spiked, Charlotte, just a child herself, ignored the pain in her ankle and hauled him on her back, dragging him toward

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