Wallace’s gaze bore into Amelie, his voice low but intense. “With someone already dead from the Austin family, do you really think they would dare to make a move against us here?”
Amelie’s smile remained unperturbed as she replied, “You are right. I might have been too hasty.”
A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd outside the room.
However, Hannah didn’t wait for them to react. She continued, “If I had wanted to harm him, I wouldn’t have waited until now. I’m not some magician who can waltz in and tamper with evidence under everyone’s noses. My hesitation stems from a fear that someone might tamper with the scene.”
Turning to address the stern-faced Remington at the door, she added, “The surveillance footage from his room should still be accessible. Could you please arrange for someone to review it?”
“Surveillance footage?”
“How could there be surveillance cameras in the room?”
Confused by Hannah’s words, the crowd outside bombarded Remington with questions.
‘s
Remington clenched his jaw, shooting a fleeting glare at Hannah before instructing someone to retrieve the footage immediately.
When Hannah turned around, she found herself in complete darkness, with only the moonlight streaming through the living room’s floor-to-ceiling windows illuminating the figure lying on the floor.
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Instead of entering, she addressed the group behind her. “Get me a pair of gloves and another person to assist. Until the police arrive, nobody enters!”
Moments later, a pair of gloves appeared by her side. As she reached for them, she turned around and saw Bryson’s worried gaze.
Raising an eyebrow, she accepted the gloves from his outstretched hand. Lowering her voice, she asked, “What brings you here?”
“Let me help. I can’t shake this feeling of unease.”
Bryson also adjusted his gloves over his well-defined fingers and raised his voice so that everyone in the room could hear.
“Miss Moore, just say the word if you need assistance. I’m here to help.”
Hannah looked at him and swiftly flicked on the room’s Light.
The sudden flood of light filled the room, causing Hannah and Bryson, who had grown accustomed to the darkness, to squint in discomfort.
Rhett’s lifeless form lay sprawled in front of the couch, a knife embedded in his chest, blood pooling around him.
With the Light turned on, everyone outside the room was able to see the scene inside.
“My son! Oh no, my son!”
A cry of anguish pierced the air, followed by a cacophony of shocked voices and frantic commotion.
With her focus solely on the tragedy before her, Hannah barely registered the chaos outside. As she approached Rhett’s body, something caught her eye.
“What is this? A mask?”