Stella's smile brightened, but at the next moment, she saw Remington heading toward the exit.

Her surprise was evident as she pointed to a table nearby, "The candy is right there."

Without looking back, Remington replied in an indifferent tone, "I need to make a call."

Stella panicked, quickly standing and following him, "Remington!"

But he'd already shut the door behind him, a bit too forcefully, causing Stella to nearly collide with it.

His refusal to let her follow couldn't have been clearer. Stella frowned, wondering if Remington had noticed something amiss.

Outside.

Remington made his way to the terrace at the end of the corridor, bumping into a waiter carrying drinks along the way.

He casually picked up a glass of red wine and stepped out to the terrace. The breeze was chilly, and he felt an inexplicable restlessness.

Taking a sip of the wine, Remington glanced at his watch, right as Lizetta's show was about to start.

He turned around, his tall body leaning back against the railing which supported his right crooked arm, the wine glass swaying in his hand. He then opened a streaming site on his phone.

Just as the curtains on the screen began to part, a slight smile played on his lips. But in the next second, that smile shattered like thin ice, replaced by a sudden chill.

to be seen

place

Remington as countless details raced through his mind. Almost simultaneously,

came through, tinged with panic, "Mr. Dashiell, Mrs. Dashiell's

glass in

wine mixed with blood dripped onto the

up her dress, approached Remington, "Remington,

top of the stairs, looking at him as

raced as she reached out to him, full of hope. But as he emerged from the shadows, his face stern and frosty, Stella's smile

went out, spotlight

turned to them as

melody filled the

forced

seemed not to see

if she wasn't there,

are

called after him, reaching for him, her voice a whisper, "Remington, wait for me; please don't embarrass

successfully reach him, and her pleas couldn't make him

spiral staircase; they became the center

whom to follow, his light darting

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