Chapter 11
Noticing Jenna’s bloodshot eyes, dark circles, and chapped lips, Shane knew Jenna hadn’t rested well for days. She wasn’t lying.
If I wasn’t with Jenna, then where had I gone for those past few days?
Shane turned around and left quickly, but not before Jenna yelled, “Shane Lundberg, if anything happens to Ally, I won’t forgive you!”
I reached out, wanting to smooth out Jenna’s messy hair, but my hand passed right through her face. I sighed helplessly. “I’m sorry for breaking my promise, Jen. Please be happy.”
I could no longer touch her, and my voice could no longer reach her.”
My body was once again forced to follow Shane. After answering a phone call, he drove off. When he pulled over, he had a grim expression.
He dialed Devon’s number. “Investigate Alli-”
I laughed bitterly. It’d been four days since my disappearance, and the man I loved for so many years was only now starting to look into my whereabouts. My body was probably already starting to decompose by now.
Before he could finish, Amber opened the car door and threw herself onto him. “Shane, why have you been avoiding me these past two days?” She pouted, looking aggrieved.
Not wanting their relationship to be exposed, Shane hung up abruptly on Devon. He looked tired. It didn’t look like he had the energy to deal with Amber.
“Abbie, I have a meeting later. If it’s not something important, I’ll be heading back to the office.”
Amber clung to his arm. “Shane, my art exhibit opens today. Aren’t you coming to show your support?”
It dawned on Shane that he had been so consumed by work these past few days. Not only had he overlooked my disappearance, but he had also forgotten about Amber’s art exhibition, which she had spent a year preparing for.
“My bad. Let’s go.”
Staring at his phone that had been thrown aside, I let out a bitter smile. It looked like I’d wasted a decade of my life on the wrong man.
Amber’s art exhibit was held at Palm Bay Gallery the very place I had once dreamed of showcasing my work.
Both Amber and I had loved painting since young. Our father had even hired the former dean. of the prestigious Institute of Arts to mentor us. He often said I was the most gifted student
Chapte
he had ever taught.
But growing up in a family like the Schultzs, painting could only be seen as a hobby. Our parents preferred that we prioritize financial acumen.
They’d rather we either manage the family business or become capable wives who could support our husbands, not just simple women who only knew how to paint.
Back then, I had secretly painted countless pieces, dreaming of opening my own gallery someday when I had the chance.
Yet, even in death, that dream remained unfulfilled. Instead, Amber had made it a reality.
She was always treated differently from me. After my family finally found her, they doted on her and spoiled her endlessly.
If she wanted the stars, they would have made sure to bring them to her. They could never bear to let her shoulder any responsibility.
Trailing behind the two of them, I felt a pang of bitterness. I had died so suddenly, but there were still so many things I wanted to accomplishi
Around me, murmurs of admiration filled the air. “Ms. Schultz’s paintings are incredible. She’s so talented.”
“They are indeed amazing. This ‘Dreams of the Water Lilies‘ piece is simply stunning.
Water Lilies? I looked up, my eyes locking on a painting that was unmistakably mine. As I looked around, I saw more of my work that I had kept stored in the basement studio.
I couldn’t believe Amber had moved my paintings to her art exhibit. How could she do this sa openly? Unless… she knew. She knew I was dead and would never return.
It was her. It had to be her who orchestrated my murder.
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