Chapter 130 Cindy
In that moment, Zachary had no idea what Alicia was talking about. All he knew was this woman wasn't Quinley.
"You're not her. You'll never be her."
His rejection was absolute.
Alicia cried, sobbing uncontrollably in his arms. "What does she have that I don't? Why are you so stubborn?"
She stripped off her clothes, cupped his face, and kissed him. She wanted to use every ounce of tenderness a woman could offer to ease his pain.
But Zachary stood there unmoved.
"Leave. Don't dirty her space."
He turned and walked back to the balcony, settling into Quinley's favorite lounge chair, staring blankly into the night.
"Zach, if you like her that much, I don't mind being her substitute," Alicia said as she left.
But Zachary didn't hear a single word.
Days kept moving forward. One after another, week after week. A month passed quickly.
A lot happened in that month. Quinley was gone, and traces of her existence in this world were fading more and more.
On this particular day, Zachary called Quinley's phone as he always did. He kept thinking that someday, somehow, she'd answer.
But that day, when he dialed like usual, the automated message changed.
Before, it had said: "The number you have dialed is powered off."
Now it said: "The number you have dialed has been disconnected."
He immediately ordered Lucas to investigate and discovered the Elikin family had cancelled Quinley's ID registration.
She wasn't dead. He was certain of it.
So Zachary went to find the Elikins. He had to preserve Quinley's identity information.
Colin and Marlee had moved back to their hometown. When Zachary arrived, Marlee was in the yard chatting with neighbors. Laughter carried far, drifting into Zachary's ears.
"Ms. Elikin's mother is over there," Lucas pointed out.
Zachary looked over and saw her doubled over with laughter.
Quinley was her daughter. Even if she'd died, how could a mother stop grieving so quickly?
"Mrs. Elikin, our Mr. Jennings needs to speak with you."
Lucas went to get Marlee. She stood and walked over, eyeing Zachary suspiciously.
"What are you doing here?"
Marlee recognized him. She clearly wasn't pleased.
"I need you to restore Quinley's ID registration."
Zachary got straight to the point.
Marlee looked him up and down. "You're Mr. Jennings, right? My daughter's dead. You have no right to ask me to do that."
She headed up the stairs toward the small room she shared with Colin. Zachary followed her up.
In the cramped space, Colin sat in his wheelchair wearing reading glasses, watching TV.
"She's not dead," Zachary said firmly.
Colin glanced at him, then turned his attention back to the television—some old war drama he seemed absorbed in.
"You think I don't know if my own daughter's dead?" Marlee's eyes reddened again. "Leave. I don't want to see you."
She was kicking him out. But Zachary didn't leave. He pulled out a checkbook and scribbled down a number.
"Is this enough?"
He didn't go overboard—a hundred thousand dollars total.
Marlee took the check, studied it carefully, couldn't make sense of it, then handed it to Colin. He examined it closely, then looked up at Zachary.
"Not enough."
Zachary added another hundred thousand. This time, Colin nodded slightly.
"As soon as possible, okay?" Zachary said as he left.
Marlee agreed. "Fine. I'll go tomorrow."
But the very next morning, Marlee showed up at the south city apartment with Dennis in tow.
Zachary had just showered and changed, about to head out, when Marlee barged through the door.
"What are you doing here?" She jumped, then shouted at him angrily.
"This is my sister's house. You're trespassing. I'm calling the cops," Dennis snapped, glaring at Zachary.
"This apartment belongs to Quinley now. What does it have to do with you?" Zachary shot back.
Dennis whipped out the property deed. "My sister's gone. Of course the house belongs to us. This is family business. Stay out of it."
Zachary had bought the apartment and put it in Quinley's name. Marlee and Dennis were her family. She was unmarried, and now that she was gone, the property did legally fall to them.
In that moment, Zachary suddenly understood why the Elikin family had been so quick to cancel Quinley's ID registration.
He pulled over a dining chair and sat down, studying the mother and son with dark, calculating eyes.
"You're planning to sell this place?"
"Obviously," Dennis replied.
"Quinny's gone. There's no use keeping it. We're going to sell," Marlee added.
"How much? I'll buy it," Zachary said.
Marlee looked at Dennis. He pulled out his phone, opened a real estate app showing comparable properties in the area. "One million dollars. Not a penny less."
He was deliberately inflating the price.
Zachary considered for a moment. "Fine."
He pulled out his checkbook again, wrote down another figure, and held it out to Dennis. As Dennis reached for it, Zachary pulled it back.
"This is two million total. You don't need to transfer the deed—just give me the property certificate. For the extra million, I need you to restore Quinley's ID registration today. If you can do that, the money's yours. If you can't, I'll get back every penny I've given you—with interest."
He was generous with money, but he wasn't a fool.
The lure of cash was impossible to resist. Dennis's eyes lit up. He hadn't expected to become the biggest winner from Quinley's death.
"Add another million and we'll go right now."
Greed was a demon. He decided to squeeze Zachary for more.
Marlee tugged his sleeve. "Denny, that's enough. Don't push it."
"Fine," Zachary said, his expression darkening slightly.
Dennis grinned smugly. Once he got that check, his life would take off.
That afternoon, Quinley's ID registration was restored.
When Zachary dialed her number, the familiar automated message played again.
"Sorry, the number you have dialed is powered off."
Hearing those words, he smiled with satisfaction. He couldn't keep her. But after she left, he'd fought desperately to keep her things, her traces.
And he would stay right here, waiting for her to come back.
...
A thousand miles from Rosewood City, there was a small town called Lakeside.
Lakeside was surrounded by clear waters and green mountains, full of simple, honest people—a beautiful little place nestled against nature.
Quinley was there now. But she'd changed her name.
Cindy Promise. Female, 28 years old. Lakeside resident.