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A sense of dizziness washed over me like a rug had been pulled out from under my feet. The thought that someone out there knew something about my family's past, something I was completely unaware of, filled me with a profound sense of unease.
I couldn't help but glance around the room as though expecting an answer or an explanation to materialize out of thin air, but there was nothing, just the unsettling silence of my empty home.
My heart raced as I sat there, my mind swirling with emotions and questions. If my parents hadn't truly died in an accident, what would have happened to them?
What about all the suffering I endured, the hardships I faced, and the sacrifices I made because of their deaths?
I couldn't help but think about when I struggled to make ends meet, working odd jobs to survive.
I spent countless nights honing my tech skills, diving into the murky world of hacking to make some extra money, all while living in fear of being caught.
The relatives who treated me like a burden, as if I didn't exist, and the isolation I felt.
If someone had sent me this cryptic message, they must have information about my parents' deaths. They might hold the key to unraveling the mysteries of my past, even if it meant confronting painful truths. I couldn't let this message go unanswered.
With a deep breath, I picked up my phone again, staring at the message as if it held the key to some hidden truth. My heart was pounding, and my fingers trembled as I typed out a message to the unknown sender.
The words needed to be cautious probing, yet not revealing my feelings and fears too much. It was a shot in the dark, but I had to take it.
"Who are you? What do you mean about my parents' deaths? I typed, my words careful and measured. As I hit send, I couldn't help but wonder if this message would finally bring me the closure I had been seeking for so long.
As seconds turned into minutes, which stretched into an agonizing eternity, I was on the edge of despair. Why wouldn't this anonymous person answer?
If they weren't going to reply, then why had they dropped this cryptic bombshell in the first place?
My breaths came out faster, harsh pants escaping my trembling lips. Tears streamed down my face, blurring the screen of my phone.
Panic began to claw at me, its grip tightening with every passing moment. I could hear myself muttering the same question repeatedly, a desperate plea for answers.
"Hurry up, please, just reply," I muttered, my voice quivering with anxiety. It was as if I could only focus on that one burning sentence, the insinuation that my parents hadn't died in an accident.
The implications were overwhelming, and I needed to know the truth. I needed closure, even if it meant facing painful realities.
I heard someone calling my name as I sat there, trapped in the vortex of my emotions and lost in the whirlpool of unanswered questions.
At first, the voice seemed distant, barely registering in my distraught mind, but it grew more insistent.
Reluctantly, I tore my eyes away from the screen of my phone; my vision blurred from the tears. There, in front of me, stood Matteo. His face was etched with worry and panic, and his eyes widened in alarm when he saw the tears staining my cheeks.
"Sophia, what happened?" he demanded urgently, his voice laced with concern. He reached out to touch my trembling shoulder, but I couldn't find the words to respond. Instead, I handed him my phone, my fingers still shaking.
With a furrowed brow, Matteo took the phone from my trembling hands and read the message out loud.
"Dear Sophia," Matteo began, and I watched his face, which mirrored the unease growing inside me.
"Your parents' deaths were a chilling reminder of how they died. It wasn't an accident, but it was... accidental in a way. You've suffered for nothing, dear. All those struggles, the shunning, the hardships you endured were pointless."
Tinged with dread, his voice continued to play out the sinister message. "Consider this a warning. History has a way of repeating itself when you least expect it. Be careful, Sophia."
My tears had already numbed me while Matteo read the message aloud.
Chapter 32
Matteo
I was utterly appalled by the message Sophia had received. What the hell was Francisco playing at? Who else would send such a cryptic and disturbing message if not him? But what did it mean?
It contradicted what I had learned during my investigation into Sophia's past. I knew her parents had died, but this message suggested it wasn't an accident, yet hinted that it was. It made no sense, and I needed answers.
