Chapter 64

"Mrs. Smith." Zoey shrank her neck and clung to my hand, "Don't be scared."

I couldn't help but chuckle; Zoey was the one who was terrified, her grip on my hand was almost painful. I whispered, "Zoey, it's okay. I'm right here with you."

Zoey mumbled something about the property management not fixing the place as she peeked at the small building.

The stairs were a mess, with pitted and eroded cement. One side of the handrail was just a fixed iron plate, the wooden cover long gone. It was so narrow that two people couldn't walk side by side.

We turned on the flashlight function on our phones and walked single file, soon reaching the door of room 402 on the fourth floor.

The door was tightly locked with a seal on it. The lock looked untouched, meaning no one had been there since the last investigation.

Zoey carefully removed the seal, took out a key, inserted it, and turned it. The door creaked open.

Inside, the light switch for the living room was on the shoe cabinet to the left of the door. Zoey flipped it on, and the room lit up.

After closing the door, Zoey let out a long breath, patting her chest, still shaken, "Oh my God, Mrs. Smith, you have no idea how dark it was outside. It scared me. If you weren't with me, I would've definitely cried."

While comforting Zoey, I looked around. The packed boxes were still in the corner of the living room, and the house was clean and tidy, with no signs of a struggle. I felt relieved; at least Lally's disappearance didn't seem to involve a fight at home.

The flower on the dining table was still blooming, even after days without water. It remained vibrant, its purple hue looking even more mysterious and eerie under the living room light.

I hadn't seen this type of flower before, but Lally said it was common, usually found by the roadside or in the countryside, needing little care, just some sunlight and water to thrive.

It seemed like this flower might have been Lally's way of encouraging herself, living a simple life like grass, unafraid of ups and downs.

"Heather? Did Lally grow this? It looks like it was carefully cultivated, quite impressive." Zoey, after circling the living room, came over and exclaimed in surprise.

I asked, "You recognize this flower?"

"Yeah, I read about it in some books on plants and culture." Zoey nodded, gently touching the flower spike, "This flower loves light and is cold-resistant. It originally grew in the wild but was later used as roadside dust absorbers and garden decorations. It looks like Lally took a branch and grew it in a small pot. Generally, people grow flowers for good luck, like prosperity. The flower language of this one..."

Zoey's expression changed, looking at me, she continued solemnly, "Loneliness, betrayal, and another interpretation is revenge born from loneliness and betrayal!"

"Laura!" Zoey and I thought for a moment and spoke in unison!

We quickly headed to Lally's bedroom, turning on the light. Photos of Lally and Duke were neatly stacked on the bedside table.

The "Emily Dickinson Poetry Collection" that Alan gave to Lally was on the nightstand, with a tattered cover, yellowed pages, and the orphanage group photo that made me faint.

Zoey picked it up, looking sad, and placed the photo inside the book, handing it to me, "Mrs. Smith, this is the book Alan gave to Lally, right? Since she's missing, you should keep it for now."

I sighed, slipping the book into my bag. Now wasn't the time to get all emotional; we needed to find any clues Lally might have left behind.

We tore through every corner of the bedroom, but all we found were some old items.

Could we have been wrong? Did Lally not recognize me, and it was just a coincidence that the bedroom was messy, asking me to help clean and share old stories?

No way, Lally definitely knew my name, and Tony must have told her. Otherwise, she wouldn't have shared so much information.

As Zoey and I were scratching our heads, I suddenly noticed that the floor color under the nightstand seemed off.

Lally's floor was made of these really old square white tiles, yellowed and cracked over time. They were clean, but the flaws were obvious. The tile under the nightstand, though, looked newer.

I moved the nightstand aside, revealing a new square tile.

My heart raced as I knelt down and tapped the tile. Anyone with renovation experience knew that if a tile was properly laid, tapping it should produce no sound or a dull sound, indicating a tight bond with the cement. A hollow sound meant there wasn't enough cement underneath, requiring re-laying.

I tapped twice... it was hollow!

The tile was loose, with gray cement around the edges looking freshly applied. I took out a nail clipper from my bag, using the file to pry the tile up.

Underneath was an envelope and a stack of photos wrapped in paper.

The envelope read: [Nancy, I am Lally.]

"Mrs. Smith, we were right," Zoey said, her voice filled with excitement.

I nodded, feeling a weight in my chest. It was hdden so deeply that even the police missed it. This might be the key to uncovering the secret. Suddenly, I hesitated to open the letter.

After a moment, I pulled it out: [Nancy, when you open this letter, you must have returned to this bedroom. Yes, when I woke up and saw your badge, I guessed who you were. It's truly a divine arrangement that you found me. I want to tell you so many things, but Duke is still at the police station. If I reveal everything, Duke, Tony, and Zack will be in danger. Don't look for Tom anymore; you've already met him. He is Zack.]

My hands trembled. If I had realized Lally was guiding me, I wouldn't have left so hastily that day.

[I originally thought that with the dead and the imprisoned, the matter would be settled. The revenge was complete. But they won't let Duke go, even making Tony meet that woman... They want to destroy us, making everyone involved in this disappear from the world.]

[Nancy, I'm so scared, but meeting you, your justice and passion inspired me. I saw light, justice, and a ray of hope shining on us from outside the prison. These photos are part of the evidence of the crimes. I kept them but didn't dare to look at them, fearing Duke's anger. I hid them under the nightstand floor.]

[After writing this letter, I don't know if I can continue living. I hope you will decide what to do. If you want to keep investigating, I will silently support you. If not, leave Silverlight City and never return, and...]

The letter ended abruptly.

Lally might have received a call while writing, hurriedly hiding the letter under the floor, but she never returned.

"Mrs. Smith... look at these photos!" Zoey, looking at the photos, was trembling, her eyes red and tears streaming down, but her gaze was filled with anger!

Seeing the first photo, I felt like I was electrocuted, my whole body shuddering!