By admin No Mercy, No Forgiveness Novel Ch 28
Wayne led Geoffrey toward the countryside of Small Town, talking as they walked.
“We found out Gareth’s travel route led here. After further investigation, we learned Maureen’s foster mother lived here during her childhood.”
Foster mother…
Amid the torrential downpour, Geoffrey’s eyes darkened as he suddenly remembered why the name Small Town sounded so familiar.
Maureen had mentioned it to him countless times!
Throughout their three–year marriage, whenever a holiday approached, she’d anxiously ask: “Geoff, I need to go to Small Town. Is that alright?”
Back then, Geoffrey never cared about Maureen’s whereabouts, nor did he ask her purpose for visiting Small Town.
He’d always respond with icy detachment: “Go wherever you want. No need to report to me.”
Despite his dismissive words, Maureen still informed him every time she went anywhere.
She rarely ventured out, and her most frequent destination was this very place.
Finally, they arrived before a dilapidated brick house.
“This is it.”
Wayne stepped forward, noticing the locked front door. “Why’s it locked?”
He glanced back at Geoffrey, who gave a slight nod.
Several bodyguards moved forward and broke open the door.
“Wait outside,” Geoffrey commanded.
“Yes, sir.”
Stepping inside, damp air rushed to meet them. The interior stood in disrepair, carrying the stale scent of mildew.
Maureen actually lived here as a child?
Geoffrey frowned, moving forward until his gaze settled on a black–and–white photo displayed on the square table.
His pupils contracted. He stepped closer, picked up the picture, and stared at it for a long time, stunned disbelief writ-
ten across his face.
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In the monochrome image, Maureen smiled with radiant serenity, embodying tranquil days. Yet her eyes held bottom-
less sorrow.
Geoffrey’s grip on the photo tightened slowly before he slammed it down violently!
“Perfect!
Are you addicted to acting?”
“A funeral portrait!
What kind of joke is this!”
He didn’t notice the tremor in his own voice.
The apartment was small–two bedrooms and a living room–easy to navigate quickly.
Beyond basic furniture like tables and chairs, the space held little else. Geoffrey searched every corner but found nothing.
“Boom-!”
After the thunder, a flash of lightning illuminated the funeral portrait once more.
Geoffrey summoned his assistant Wayne: “Find out where Maureen’s housekeeper went.”
“Yes, Mr. Sutton.”
After Wayne left,
Geoffrey dismissed his bodyguards too. He stayed alone, waiting for the homeowner’s return to demand answers.
That wait lasted an entire day.
By afternoon, the rain ceased. Voices from neighbors outside drifted in.
“Poor Zoe, never had a daughter of her own. Finally raises a kid, and now she’s gone.”
“Exactly.
I still remember Maureen, such a bright and sensible girl. How could she leave so young?”
“Life in High Society ain’t easy either. Last time Maureen came back, she looked like a different person–thin as a reed, like a gust could blow her away.”
“Zoe and Maureen kept saying how wonderful her husband was. Wishful thinking! Married three years, never once brought her back…”
Geoffrey felt a lump in his throat.
Zoe and Maureen never showed up that day.
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Geoffrey leaned against the wooden chair, drifting into a light sleep. Moments later, he jolted awake.
He’d dreamed of Maureen dying again….
When he opened his eyes, silence and darkness surrounded him. No Maureen.
In that moment, he truly felt she’d never return.
Ten o’clock at night.
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Zoe’s neighbors were brought into her brick house for “questioning.” The room felt even smaller, crammed with black–suited bodyguards.
“Where are they?”
None of the villagers had ever faced such intimidation. They stood ramrod straight, heads bowed, not daring to glance at Geoffrey–who sat at the head with a dark expression.
“The night before last, I heard Zoe crying, then came over and found out the girl Maureen had died.”
“Young people passing away is never good. She was cremated and buried that very night.”
Buried that very night….
Geoffrey’s dark eyes flickered.
“After the burial, Zoe vanished yesterday…”
The others nodded in agreement.
Wayne asked them about Gareth’s whereabouts.
They exchanged confused glances, none knowing where Gareth had gone.
They said Gareth was an orphan. After being taken away one year, he never returned here.
Late, 12:03 AM.
Rain still poured, lightning splitting the sky. Country roads were muddy and treacherous.
“Mr. Sutton, perhaps visit the grave tomorrow?”
Days of exhaustion left Wayne feeling drained.
Geoffrey shot him a look.
Wayne immediately fell silent, trailing cautiously under his umbrella, though questions churned inside.
Mr. Sutton’s dislike for Maureen was obvious to all. Why search for her with such relentless effort now?
Finally arriving, Geoffrey spotted the solitary new grave atop the hill.
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His throat tightened, footsteps halting.
After an eternity, his voice cut through the storm: “Dig it up!”
If she’s alive, I’ll see her. If she’s dead, I’ll see her corpse.