Chapter 258 Emily Is Dead?

Chapter 258 Emily Is Dead?

They searched an area spanning dozens of nautical miles around where Matthew fell into the sea, deploying helicopters, divers, and sonar equipment, but found nothing.

The search and rescue team captain said to Alex: "Mr. Baker, there are undercurrents beneath this area. It's winter now, the water temperature is extremely low. It's very hard for anyone to survive after falling in... and so much time has already passed."

"Keep searching," Alex's voice was terribly hoarse. "I need to see her alive or see her body."

The search continued for another three days.

On the fourth day, a diver found a shoe wedged in a crevice between rocks on the seabed.

Alex recognized that shoe.

It was one of the flat shoes Emily had worn before boarding the plane. She had said she couldn't wear heels anymore because she was pregnant, so she had specially changed into a pair with soft soles.

He stood by the sea holding that shoe for a long time.

The sea wind blew his hair into a mess, and his coat hem flapped loudly in the wind.

He didn't cry, just stood there like a stone statue.

Eleanor had been sent back to his mother's place. He didn't dare let his daughter see him in his current state.

Michael carefully approached, his voice very low: "Mr. Baker, the search and rescue team has been searching for several days without finding Miss Johnson. Miss Johnson is probably already..."

"Keep searching," Alex's voice had no inflection. "Until we find her."

Grace heard the news of Emily falling into the sea in a small town in Northern Europe.

Alex had kept his promise and arranged a flight abroad and some money for her. She had rented a small apartment in this Northern European town, planning to live out the rest of her life peacefully.

But when she heard "Emily's" name, the milk carton in her hand dropped to the floor.

Emily was dead?

She moved closer to the screen and read the entire news story from beginning to end.

Missing, whereabouts unknown, extremely low chance of survival.

Grace stood in front of the TV in the supermarket, her expression changing from shock to disbelief, and from disbelief to wild joy.

She's dead!

Emily is dead!

Grace covered her mouth, afraid she would laugh out loud right there.

She practically ran back to her apartment, and after closing the door, she circled the living room several times, unable to stop the smile on her face.

That woman was finally dead.

The person she hated most in her life had finally disappeared from this world.

Grace opened a bottle of red wine that night and toasted herself in front of the mirror, celebrating alone.

She drank until she was completely drunk and lay in bed having a long, beautiful dream.

In the dream, there was no Emily, no Tyler, no one who had tormented her.

She wore a beautiful dress and stood in the sunshine, with everyone's eyes focused on her.

She woke up smiling.

After waking up, she made a decision.

She would go back.

She would go back to personally attend Emily's funeral and watch those people cry their hearts out.

Grace booked the nearest flight back home.

The day she returned happened to be overcast, with a gray sky that looked like it could rain at any moment.

She took a taxi directly to Alex's villa.

When she arrived, she happened to run into Eleanor's birthday party being held in the garden.

Eleanor sat at a small table with a beautiful cake in front of her, but she kept her head down, looking completely unhappy.

Alex sat beside her, trying to make her laugh.

Grace hid in the bushes outside the garden, looking in through the gaps in the iron fence.

She saw Eleanor with her head down, saw Alex forcing a smile, and an indescribable satisfaction welled up inside her.

After Emily "died," the Baker family was missing a mistress. Maybe she could—

She was startled by her own thought, but quickly felt it was natural.

Emily was dead, the child was still young. She could replace her and take care of Emily's husband and child.

So when Alex temporarily went to the company to handle urgent business and Linda took Eleanor to her interest class, leaving only a few servants in the villa, she went around to the side of the villa and found a window that wasn't locked tight.

She had worked here before and was very familiar with every part of the place.

Her heart beat fast as she climbed through the window, but more than anything, she felt excited.

She easily made her way to the second floor and pushed open the master bedroom door.

This was Alex and Emily's room.

Since Emily's accident, nothing in this room had changed.

Grace stood in the middle of the room looking around, her gaze falling on the vanity.

On the vanity was Emily's jewelry box, with several of her frequently worn clothes hanging beside it.

Grace walked over and opened the jewelry box.

Inside was a pearl necklace, a pair of diamond earrings, and several rings.

She picked up the pearl necklace and put it on, examining herself from side to side in the mirror.

The necklace was beautiful, and it looked even better on her.

She then took a velvet coat hanging on the rack and draped it over herself, spinning around as the hem flew out.

She imagined herself as the mistress of this house, standing in front of the mirror admiring herself, more and more satisfied with what she saw.

Just then, the room door was suddenly pushed open from outside.

Alex stood in the doorway.

He had forgotten to bring a document and came back temporarily to get it, never expecting to see such a scene.

After seeing clearly who was in the room, his expression changed from shock to dark fury.

"What are you doing?"

Grace was startled by him, but quickly composed herself, turned to face him, with what she thought was a charming smile on her face: "Alex, you're back? I heard Emily died. Let me take care of you in her place, okay?"

"Put her things down." Alex didn't respond to her words, his voice very soft, but each word seemed frozen in ice.

"She's already dead." Grace took a step forward, reaching out to grab his arm. "You can't be alone forever, and the child needs someone to take care of her too."

"Who told you she's dead?" Alex shook off her hand forcefully, with such strength that she staggered several steps back. "What right do you have to touch her things?"

Grace's smile froze.

"Wearing her clothes, wearing her jewelry, you think that makes you able to replace her?" Alex took a step forward, looking down at her. "You're not worth a single hair on her head."

Grace's face flushed red, her lips trembling for a long time before she squeezed out from her throat: "She's dead. What's the use of you guarding these dead person's things?"

Alex didn't answer her.

He picked up his phone and made a call.

Twenty minutes later, two men in white coats walked in.

Grace recognized those uniforms. She had seen them in Northern Europe—they were psychiatric hospital uniforms.

Her face changed instantly.

"Alex, what are you doing?"

"Don't you like pretending to be crazy?" Alex's voice carried no warmth. "Then go to a place that suits you and be properly crazy."

The men in white coats grabbed Grace's arms from both sides and dragged her toward the door.

Grace struggled desperately, screaming, cursing, crying, but it was all useless.

She was dragged out of the villa and stuffed into a white van. The moment the door closed, her screams were isolated inside the cold metal compartment.

She was sent to a psychiatric hospital on the outskirts of the capital.

It was called a psychiatric hospital, but it was more like a prison.

Iron doors, iron windows, the hallway filled with the mixed smell of disinfectant and excrement, with occasional howls from patients coming from the end of the corridor.

Grace was locked in a room with only an iron bed, the door locked from the outside.