Chapter 236

Beside him stood a woman, propped up against his shoulder, her eyes red and swollen from crying. She was the one weeping the hardest. It was Yolanda's biological mother, who had rushed back from out of town overnight.

The others were from Yolanda's husband's family. They were grieving too, not for their daughter-in-law, but for their grandson and granddaughter. On either side of Yolanda's gurney lay two smaller forms, covered by white sheets, their shapes unmistakably those of children.

The moment Wallace stepped inside, Yolanda's mother lunged at him, beating his chest with her fists.

“You bastard, Wallace! Give me back my daughter!” she shrieked. “You give me back Yolanda! What kind of father are you? You couldn't even protect your own child!"

Wallace, already on edge, lost his patience. "That's enough!" he snapped, shoving her back.

The woman stumbled, and if Reuben hadn't caught her, she would have fallen. She stared at him, stunned, before her grief erupted anew.

"Wallace! Your daughter is dead, and you push me? Was it you? Did you kill her? You murderer! You're less than an animal! You wouldn't even spare your own daughter...!"

A vein throbbed in Wallace's temple. He shot her a venomous look. “Shut up! I'm grieving too, but don't you dare stand here and make baseless accusations. Your hysterics won't bring her back to life, you know that?"

Reuben tried to intervene. "Mom, please, calm down. The police are still investigating. The real killer is still out there. If they saw this, they'd be laughing somewhere. Let's not do anything that would give our enemies satisfaction."

His words seemed to have an effect. The woman's sobs subsided slightly, but the image of her daughter's horrific death brought on a fresh wave of tears.

Wallace, too frustrated to deal with his ex-wife, walked over to the white sheet. He reached out to lift it but hesitated, his courage failing him.

The woman sneered. "What's wrong, Wallace? Don't tell me you're too much of a coward to even look at your own daughter. You, catch the killer? Don't make me laugh!"

Goaded, Wallace yanked the sheet away.

The instant Latisha saw the body, her stomach churned. She whipped her head around, burying her face, in Clifford's chest, unable to look. Clifford held her, gently patting her back his own eyes fixed on the corpse, his expression unreadable.

The body was, as expected, charred, but not completely. It was a grotesque

patchwork of black and red, horribly burned.

Wallace nearly threw up but managed to hold it back.

Seeing her daughter's mutilated remains, the mother collapsed into another fit of heart-wrenching sobs nearly fainting several times. Eve Reuben had to turn his head away his face a mask of pain. The woman he had shared his life with was now unrecognizable.

Clifford stared for a few more moments before pulling Latisha out of the room: Whether from the cold of the morgue or from sheer terror, Latisha was trembling.

dncontrollably. Her hands and feet

were

like ice, making Clifford's warm hand feel scorching hot against her skin.

Once they were in the car, he turned the heat up to full blast, but she still hugged herself, shivering.

A long, slender hand touched her cheek. "Don't be scared," Clifford said softly. "Just think about how they used to bully you."

Latisha's head snapped up to look at him. His expression was placid, but the

passing streetlights cast shifting shadows on his face, revealing a chilling coldness in his eyes.

"Feel better now?" he whispered.

The words hit her like a tidal wave of ice, seeping into her very bones. She began to tremble even more violently.