?Chapter 2333:


    “Miss Pearson!” Officers rushed forward and held her back. “Please stay calm!”


    “Get her out of here!”


    “Yes, sir!”


    “Mr. Flynn, do you need to take another look?” one officer said cautiously.


    Ernest didn’t move. His face had drained of all color. Then, slowly, he turned toward the table. As his eyes fell on the body, his breath caught. His chest rose sharply, unevenly.


    “No… no, this isn’t…”


    A cold dread crept into his limbs. He stared at the face—what was left of it—and shook his head in disbelief. “This isn’t Elissa. It’s not her!”


    His gaze flicked to the coroner. Then, without warning, he grabbed the front of the man’s coat. “How can you say this is Elissa? Look again! She’s not—she can’t be!”


    “Mr. Flynn, please!” one officer shouted. “Calm down!”


    “Get him out!”


    “Yes, sir!”


    The morgue was in chaos. To Hadley and Ernest, it felt like the floor had given way beneath them. Everything was falling apart.


    At Scott Group, Phillips stepped into the office. “Mr. Scott, Linda’s trying to leave the country.” Eric raised an eyebrow.


    She had once been admitted to a top hospital abroad, as arranged by Ernest, butter she sneaked back into the country. And now she wanted to leave again? Her engagement to Ernest was broken, so there was nothing left for her in Srixby. Maybe this was her way of moving on. Still, the timing was odd.


    “There’s something else,” Phillips added. “Linda, A, and Chelsey don’t have any direct ties. They don’t seem to know each other. But A’s mother just came into arge sum of money—a million dors—wired by someone named Abigail Lopez.”


    Abigail?


    .cóm is the source


    Eric frowned. “Abigail… as in Linda’s former agent?”


    “Yes, that’s her.”


    In this light, Linda’s actions appeared cloaked in suspicion. Abigail bore no personal animosity toward A or Hadley; the only thread binding their lives was Linda herself. Yet this remained mere spection. On the surface, no definitive evidence pointed to Linda. Consequently, Abigail had be a critical witness in the unfolding enigma.


    “Where is Abigail now?” Eric asked, his voiceced with urgency.


    Phillips shook his head, his expression grim. “She has slipped from our grasp.” They had only her exit records from the immigration office—nothing more. After leaving Srixby, Abigail abandoned her local phone number, leaving them unable to reach her.


    Still, their investigation uncovered traces of Abigail’s dealings with Bianca. Eric’s brow creased, his thoughts racing to unravel the intricate connections. From the outset of this confounding affair, every detail seemed to entangle too many lives, whether A, Chelsey, or those in their orbit. Only a handful could have breached their inner circle so effortlessly.


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