Did I make the right choice telling him? Sharlene couldn't shake the question. As she tended to Lawrence's wounded hand, guilt gnawed at her.
"I—I'm sorry, Sharlene. I couldn't control my emotions," Lawrence murmured, still seeking her forgiveness.
She shook her head gently. "I should be the one apologizing. I didn't think about how this would affect you."
Lawrence sighed, calming slightly. Sharlene could see the tension slowly leaving his face.
"Maybe I shouldn't continue. Not now."
But he touched her shoulder. "It's okay, Sharlene. We need to talk about this."
He led her outside to clear their heads, guiding her toward the garden.
"Where was Leah buried?" he asked, voice steady but low.
Sharlene drew a breath. "Do you remember that abandoned place? The one people avoid?"
He nodded slowly. "Yes… Is that where my cousin was buried?"
She nodded. He froze, staring off into the distance.
"Impossible..." he whispered. "Impossible."
Sharlene nodded again, her hand instinctively balling into a fist. "You were right to suspect. I passed by it recently. It's part of the Atienza estate."
Lawrence turned sharply. "Sheila lives there, doesn't she?"
"Yes."
"Then we'll talk to her."
His decisiveness surprised her. She hesitated.
"P-Please don't bring me if you plan to visit her," she said quietly.
Lawrence raised a brow. "Is there something between you two?"
Can he read minds? she thought.
"N-No. I'm just… shy around her."
Lawrence didn't buy it. His stare grew skeptical.
"Shy? You two were inseparable in high school."
"Let's not talk about the past," she muttered, exhaling deeply.
Lawrence shook his head but didn't push further.
"I'm going to my grandmother's house first," she said, trying to excuse herself.
"Wait." Lawrence caught her arm and pulled out a car key.
"I'll go with you."
"You're injured. Let me go alone—this is my issue."
"Who knows? I might find something if I come along," he said, smiling.
"You're stubborn."
He laughed. "Let's go."
Sharlene gave in. Soon, they were in the car, with her seated up front.
As they passed an overgrown field, Sharlene caught sight of a bloodied woman in the side mirror. Her heart jumped.
"What is it, Sharlene?" Lawrence asked.
She quickly looked away. "N-Nothing."
Lawrence glanced toward where she'd been staring.
"They found the bodies of that couple I told you about somewhere near here," he said.
She nodded, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Her gaze locked onto a nearby warehouse—old and rusted.
Suddenly, a voice from her dream echoed in her mind. "Ellena, stay here. Hide, my child. Mommy will come back for you..."
The image of the little girl appeared again, the one with the bracelet. A sharp pain throbbed in her head.
Sharlene gripped her temples.
"Are you okay?" Lawrence asked, concerned.
"Sorry, just a sudden headache."
"Rest when we get to your grandmother's house," he said gently.
She nodded, wincing.
As they passed the Atienza estate, the car slowed. Lawrence stared out the window.
"I'm going back there," he said. "I'll find a way in. I'll uncover Leah's story… all of it."
Sharlene turned to him. He looked determined, lost in deep thought. She couldn't blame him. Losing a loved one leaves wounds that never quite heal.
Soon, her grandmother's house came into view.
"I'll make something for you to drink," she offered.
"No need to bother," he smiled.
"Feel free to look around. You're my guest," she said warmly.
"I might do that," he replied.
"I'm heading upstairs. If you need anything, just call."
He nodded.
Sharlene made her way up to her grandmother's old room. She sighed, remembering it was the place where she had found that notebook.
Maybe I'll find something else, she thought.
She opened each closet one by one. She didn't touch the clothes—only took what caught her eye. So far, nothing important.
Only one closet remained. She opened it and found a cabinet inside. Inside, she found an old photo album. As she flipped through it, childhood memories rushed in.
Focus, Sharlene.
She closed the album and opened the cabinet. Her breath caught.
Inside were documents—bank accounts, land titles—all transferred to her grandmother's name.
Her hands trembled as she read: Leah Harlene Martinez.
Were Leah's parents still alive when she died?
How did Grandma gain control of so many assets?
Questions raced through her mind.
Just as she was about to call Lawrence, she noticed a small box tucked in the corner. She hesitated—then reached for it.
She opened the box.
A bracelet lay inside.
Sharlene stared at it, stunned.
A small photograph accompanied it—of a mother handing the bracelet to her child.
Sharlene stared at the photo. Her chest suddenly tightened.
Without realizing it, tears streamed down her cheeks.