But just as Silvia was about to turn around, the woman’s voice came through the phone again: “Silvia, are you thinking of going back to report me to the authorities? Well, you won’t succeed. This is just a phone call—there’s no evidence.”
With that, Laurinda hung up.
Staring at her now-black phone screen, Silvia’s face grew even more troubled. She looked at her call log, silently cursing herself for not recording the conversation. Still, remembering the dashcam, she quickly removed it from its mount.
But as she scrolled through the footage, she found nothing.
Everything else had recorded perfectly—except for the stretch of time when she’d been on the phone with Laurinda. That segment was simply gone.
It made no sense.
Silvia was certain the dashcam was in perfect working order. How could this have happened…?
She pulled out her phone and double-checked the time of the call against the dashcam footage. Sure enough, the moment she answered Laurinda’s call, the dashcam cut to black, only resuming once the conversation ended.
It didn’t take a genius to realize Laurinda was behind it.
Silvia pulled over to the side of the road. Alone, she leaned back against the seat, pressing her fingers to her brow as a wave of helplessness swept through her.
The Parsons and Ashford families were about equally powerful—so why did the Parsons have to be so complicated?
With Kent’s family as a comparison, Silvia felt more grateful than ever for her own: small, close-knit, and loving.
Kent, though, had grown up in this mess. It must have been painful for him, living in such a household.
Thinking about it, Silvia let out a long breath, resignation flickering in her eyes.
She remembered her last visit to the Parsons’ estate, the house full of people. Laurinda had exuded a powerful presence; she didn’t look at all like someone overlooked by her family.
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