Chapter 314: Chapter 311: Never ’I’m Sorry’, Only ’I Love You’ (7)
"It’s all your fault! And that ’good man’ you introduced us to! Carol Young, it’s all your fault I’m in this mess! Why don’t you just go die?! You’re the one who brought Marlon Marshall home! You got your dad killed, you lost your sister’s money, and now you’ve ruined me! What sins did I commit in a past life to have a daughter like you?!"
Carol Young remained motionless. "All my fault? Yes, it’s all my fault. I’m to blame for everything. I deserve to die."
"If you know you deserve to die, then hurry up and do it! Your sister and your dad are waiting for you down there!" Mrs. Young said, then broke into another fit of loud, ugly sobs. "Oh, dear heavens, how am I supposed to live like this? There’s not a single penny left!"
"Didn’t Dad still have money?"
"I know, but I can’t find his card."
Carol Young made up her mind. "I know where his card is," she said. "Even when I had no money, when I was selling my body, I never dared to spend a single cent of it. It’s all yours now. Mom, I hope you live a good life."
Mrs. Young didn’t notice the change in her daughter’s demeanor; her mind was fixated on the money.
"Where is it? Quick, give it to me."
Carol Young replied, "Since Dad has passed away, you should go to the bank and ask about the necessary procedures and documents. Come home tonight to get the card. The PIN is the one our whole family uses."
At these words, Mrs. Young stopped crying and immediately stood up. "Carol, you really are Mom’s good daughter. I guess I didn’t spoil you for nothing when you were little. I’ll go to the bank first, then get the paperwork."
She quickly left. Carol Young sat on the bed, her body turning cold. She bore an unshirkable responsibility for the state her family was now in.
Her addiction flared up again.
Her whole body trembled. The hallucinations were back.
Her father and sister were sitting there, smiling and beckoning to her. A sinister voice was calling, "Come here, come here~"
Outside the door, Mrs. Young’s loud, excited voice could be heard. "Did the payment go through? You got the text I just sent, right? Yes, I’ve got money now! Come over tonight, okay? We’ll definitely turn our luck around with the stocks this time!"
Carol didn’t have to guess who her mother was talking to.
Carol Young sat there, her mind in a haze.
Her mother’s voice at her ear seemed to fade, bit by bit.
The room grew quiet, but the sounds in her ears did not.
The visions before her eyes, however, she took for reality.
She gradually stopped being afraid. Her body was shaking uncontrollably, her insides felt as though they were being devoured by a thousand insects, gnawing at her flesh and sucking her blood. The feeling was unbearable. She smiled at an empty spot in the room and muttered, "Dad, Sis, I’m coming to find you."
Stumbling out of bed, she rummaged through chests and cabinets for a good while.
At last, she found the long strip of white mourning cloth they had bought for her father’s funeral.
Then, she found where her father had hidden the bank card, opened the container, and took it out.
She took out a pen and scrawled a message on a piece of paper: Mom, I’m sorry. I’ve lost all hope for living. I’m going to use my life to apologize to Dad and Sis. Don’t give this money to Marlon Marshall. He’s a bottomless pit. The moment you run out of money, he won’t give you the time of day. Stop seeing him. Please, live a good life.
She placed the bank card and the note into the pocket of a jacket her mother loved to wear.
She carried the mourning cloth into the bathroom.
She closed the door, turned on the tap, and filled the bathtub halfway.
She then got in. The water was pleasantly warm, perfect for a bath.
Except she hadn’t taken off her clothes.
With an unusual look in her eyes, she tied the long mourning cloth to the faucet.
Then, she slipped her head through the loop of cloth, pulling it tight around her neck. As she prepared to let go, she looked toward the bathroom door.
Her father and sister were still beckoning to her, their faces wreathed in smiles.
She no longer felt any attachment to life.
She let her hands fall away. Trembling, Carol Young closed her eyes.
The cloth tightened around her throat. As her body slid down, her eyes suddenly shot open, her hands gripping the edges of the tub.
Her legs thrashed for a few moments, then went still.
Her eyes closed forever. With her own hands, she had ended her young life.
There was no more pain.
In the quiet bathroom, the soft DRIP, DRIP, DRIP from the faucet continued unabated.
Mrs. Young returned from the bank, certificate in hand, feeling utterly delighted.
The thought of Marlon Marshall coming over tonight made her even more ecstatic. ’Of course,’ she decided, ’after what happened, I can’t give him that much. He’s already scammed me out of a fortune.’
’This was all the money I have left. I have to live too, don’t I?’
She took out her key and opened the door. Because she was in such a good mood, her voice was much kinder when she called out to her daughter.
"Carol, Mom’s home."
No response.
Mrs. Young saw Carol’s door was open. She peeked inside and, seeing no one, wondered aloud, "Where’d she go?"
She took out her phone to call her, but the phone just rang from inside Carol’s bedroom. Mrs. Young saw that her daughter’s clothes were still there and figured she had probably just stepped out for a bit.
So, she began taking out her favorite outfits, holding them up to her body one by one to decide what to wear that evening.
She finally selected one and put it on.
She did her makeup, then stood by the window to see if Carol was back yet.
After waiting for a long time, she started to curse under her breath.
"That damn girl, where did she go? Always making trouble when it matters most."
She was in the middle of cursing Carol when Marlon Marshall happened to call, saying he was almost at her place.
Mrs. Young saw that the sky had already darkened, and there was still no sign of Carol’s return. She had no choice but to have Marlon come over first.
Mrs. Young asked him, "Our supermarket, is it that one called ’XXX Supermarket’ east of the traffic light?"
"Of course it is."
"I didn’t wait for you to pick me up today, so I went there myself. The owner’s surname is Ma, that’s true, but he wasn’t you. You’re just a filthy liar! What did you do with my money?" she interrogated, staring him down.
Marlon Marshall had no choice but to tell the truth. "My luck was a bit down for a while... I gambled it all away."
Hearing him say this, Mrs. Young was furious. "All that money, you gambled it all away?"
"Yeah. Look, this time my judgment is sound, I swear. Just wait, we’re going to make a huge profit. Trust me one more time."
"Fine."
"I’m just going to wash my face."
Marlon Marshall headed toward the bathroom.
He thought nothing of it, but when he turned on the light, he let out a piercing scream and came scrambling out of the room in terror.
Seeing how frightened he was, Mrs. Young immediately asked, "What’s wrong?"
Marlon Marshall was trembling from head to toe, his legs turned to jelly. "Go look in the bathroom and you’ll see."
Mrs. Young walked to the bathroom door. The moment she stood in the doorway, she could scarcely believe her eyes.
Lying in the bathtub was her daughter. ’Is she... dead?’
"Carol!"
Mrs. Young rushed forward, reaching out a trembling hand to feel for breath beneath Carol’s nose. As she’d feared, there was no sign of life.
She immediately ran out, but Marlon Marshall was already gone. Mrs. Young called the police at once.
After an investigation, the police ruled Carol Young’s death a suicide.
The news of her death quickly drew the attention of everyone in the apartment complex.
