?Chapter 1051:


    N’s lips twisted in disgust, but her need for money drowned out any protest she might have made.


    Tucker shivered atop the icy steel table, every breath ragged as pain wracked his body. He kept whispering Charlette’s name. “Charlette, please…e…”


    Wyatt shot him a look of pure annoyance. “What’s that brat babbling about? Shut him up.”


    A filthy cloth was jammed into Tucker’s mouth, smothering his faint cries. Later that day, a body was tossed by the roadside, discarded without a second thought.


    With Wesley’s pass clutched in her hand, Charlette hurried toward the spot where she’d promised to meet Tucker. Tucker was the boy who’d been beaten bloody in the marketce after his father forced him to steal. She’d found him after that beating, provided him with food and water, and tried to give him a little hope.


    Charlette waited for hours, from midday well into the afternoon, but Tucker never showed. He was always early, neverte. A sense of foreboding settled in her chest. Before nightfall, she began searching the roads, determined to find him.


    She finally stumbled upon Tucker’s lifeless body, face down in the dirt, swarmed by flies. Color drained from her cheeks. “Tucker!”


    Rushing to him, she rolled his body over. The sight hit her like a punch to the gut, and she couldn’t hold it together—she vomited right there. Someone had ripped Tucker open, leaving nothing but an empty shell where his stomach should have been. How could anyone do this to a child?


    Charlette stood rooted to the spot, her mind spinning as bitter voices from her past came rushing back.


    “You’re nothing but a burden! Why don’t you just die?”


    “Your mom ditched you for some other man.”


    “You’re as useless as your frivolous mother, needing a good beating. Now get in there and cook!”


    “Where’s my wine?”


    “Hand over the money or I’ll beat you senseless!”


    Angry shouts and the harsh snap of a belt haunted Charlette’s thoughts, reying with vivid rity. She knew she was seconds away from falling apart. Digging her teeth into her tongue, Charlette fought to hold herself together. Wild dogs circled at the edge of the yard, hungry for the scent of blood. She steeled her resolve. She couldn’t afford to break down now. She shrugged off her jacket, wrapped Tucker’s small body inside, and carried him home in her arms.


    Tucker’s house was nothing more than a crumbling shelter, the inside cold and shadowy.


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    Charletteid Tucker gently on the bed. Soon, the sound of heavy footsteps and slurred speech drifted from the doorway. “Where’s that useless kid? Why isn’t my food ready?”


    A man staggered inside, stopped short at the sight of Charlette, and scowled. “Who the hell are you?”


    Without looking at him, she said, her voice t, “Tucker’s gone. You’ll need to report his death.”


    It took the man a moment to process, and then he just shrugged. “Report what, exactly? What’s the big deal?”


    Charlette tasted blood in her mouth as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. “He was murdered. They carved him up and took his organs.”


    Unbothered, the man dropped his bottle onto the table. “Beat it! It’s none of your business. He’s my kid. I can do whatever I want—and even sell him off. Who gave you the right to interfere?”


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