The old butler, who had worked years for the Wright Clan, recognized me instantly. He had someone bring me clean clothes and escorted me to a guest room to take a shower.
I couldn’t help but wonder—why the guest room?
Ignoring his attempts to stop me, I walked straight to the master bedroom door. Without hesitation, I pushed it open.
This had once been our room. Milford’s and mine.
But now, it was unrecognizable. Not a single trace of me was left. Everything had been rearranged to suit Malissa’s tastes. Even our wedding photos had been replaced with pictures of him and her.
The man who once swore he would look at our wedding photo every night before bed and never take it down—even when he turned eighty—had clearly changed.
I stared at the picture of Milford and Malissa, their smiles mocking me from the frame. The tears fell quietly, without sound.
So, this was why he never came to rescue me. Was he afraid I’d get in the way of him and Malissa?
The old butler sighed, clearly wanting to offer some kind of comfort, but in the end, he couldn’t find the right words.