Chapter 128

Third–person POV

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Marlene sat in the dimly lit room, the glow of the screen illuminating her face as she watched the video of Amber’s accident, the images playing out in a never–ending loop. Her eyes were glazed over with a manic intensity as she replayed the moment of impact, finding a perverse sense of joy in the destruction that unfolded before her eyes.

As the video played on, Marlene’s fingernails absentmindedly picked at the skin of her palm, a nervous tic that had become more pronounced in her moments of heightened emotion. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, her mind consumed by a twisted fixation on the sight of Amber’s car tumbling helplessly

a cruel smile playing on her lips as she whispered, “Die, die, die,” like an incantation that echoed

in the stillness of the room.

Dark circles ringed in her bloodshot eyes, a testament to the sleepless nights she had experienced in the past few days while obsessing over her vendetta against her older sister.

Ever since Angela’s call informing her of the successful attempt on Amber’s life, Marlene has been

consumed by a single–minded obsession with seeing her sister’s demise, a deep–seated desire for

closure that gnawed at her like a festering wound.

Her people had been dispatched to gather information on Amber’s condition, their sole purpose being

to bring her news of the one thing Marlene craved above all else: confirmation of Amber’s death. To

Marlene, only with Amber’s death came the promise of peace and vindication, a beautiful end that she

believed would finally free her from the suffocating weight of her sister’s existence.

But as she watched the video, a drop of blood splattered onto the screen of her phone, and a sudden

jolt of pain broke through her manic reverie. Marlene’s gaze dropped to her hand, her eyes widening

saw the raw, bloody spot where

by a primal urge to see Amber’s demise come to fruition.

surge of rage swept through her, a primal fury that pulsed through her veins like wildfire. “She’s not dead yet, she’s not dead

still be very much alive, like a

the brink of madness as she

phone from the bed and hurled it across the room with a guttural scream, the device shattering against the far wall with

her surroundings. With wild abandon, she seized anything within reach–cosmetics, pillows, perfumes, flower vases–and sent them flying across the room in a whirlwind of

air grew thick

“Die, Am Ound of shattering glass

die, die, die,” a chilling litany of hatred that echoed off

as she continued on an

you’re dead, Amber!” She screamed, her voice shaky

sudden, jarring motion, Marlene’s body convulsed, her hands reaching out in a frantic grasp as she collapsed to her knees and crawled beneath her bed. Shadows danced in the dim light, casting twisted shapes across the room as Marlene’s mind played cruel tricks on

of mocking laughter filled the room, a cruel echo that reverberated in the empty spaces of

cacophony of raw anguish as she struck out blindly, her hands beating against her skull in a desperate bid to silence the tormenting voices that echoed in her ears. The weight of Amber’s cruel words bore down on her like a crushing weight, threatening to drag her

of light caught Marlene’s eye–a shattered shard of glass that was within reach. In that moment, she felt a sense of helplessness hit her hard as she reached for the glass shard, with words of self–deprecation tumbling from her lips: “I don’t deserve to live; I’m not worthy.”

skin as she held it close to her

had a ennels at vaalisation

to consume her, a spark of realization

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to her senses at the last minute, Marlene threw the glass away, the shard

she could have done

moment of clarity, she’d recall Amber’s words to her a few months ago,

Start

good old days,” and

herself again, just like she had done

her ragged sobs mingling with the echoes of Amber’s voice, mocking her in

sobbing echoed through the room, and tears streamed down her cheeks, her heart aching with

consumed her

she felt both physically and emotionally battered, a loud knock reverberated through the room, jolting Marlene out of her despair. She struggled to push herself off the floor, her

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