Chapter 8
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Samantha refused to bury my corpse.
She made frequent visits to the hospital’s psychiatric department. It was clear to everyone that her mental state was on the verge
of collapse.
News of my death soon reached the Henderson family.
For the first few days, Lewis and Elsie cried their hearts out, devastated by the loss. The entire Henderson household was
shrouded in gloom, with everyone grieving my death.
The Hendersons even hired a priest to perform a ritual for my soul’s peace.
But their sorrow didn’t last long.
With Isaac by their side, Lewis and Elsie quickly recovered. Within a month, life in the Henderson family returned to normal.
It made sense, really.
While I was their biological son, I wasn’t raised by them. Their feelings for me were there but shallow.
The ones who truly mourned me were my adoptive parents. Overwhelmed with grief, they coughed up blood and ended up in the hospital’s emergency ward.
To her credit, Samantha paid for their medical bills and subsequent rehabilitation costs.
Time, as always, dulled the edges of pain.
As more days passed, Samantha began to look better, physically at least. But I noticed she could never sleep through the night. She relied on medication just to catch a few hours of restless sleep.
During this time, she spared no expense or effort to uncover the truth about what had happened to her back then.
Three years ago, the attack on the cruise wasn’t an accident. It was the deceitful Isaac who bribed thugs to come after me. With me gone, he would become the sole heir to the Henderson fortune, worth billions.
But things didn’t go as planned. I was delayed by something and hadn’t gone up to the deck.
The thugs had been lying in wait for a while. When they saw the beautiful and unaccompanied Samantha, dark thoughts took
over, and they made their move.
If I hadn’t arrived in time, Samantha would’ve been killed after being violated.
Lately, Samantha had been trying hard to piece together her past. She would often hide from the household staff and stab herself
with a sharp knife.
From a psychological perspective, physical pain could sometimes trigger deeply buried memories one didn’t want to recall.
