Shattered Rose He Held On Tight novel Chapter 301

Chapter 301 An Accident?

Chapter 301 An Accident?

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“An accident?” Clint raised a brow, voice light but cutting. “Yeah, that one–the ‘accident‘ that. changed Lydia’s and Ms. Lancaster’s lives forever.”

He paused, then added with a lazy smile, “But was it really an accident?”

He turned toward the photo of late Zoey–she was smiling softly, frozen in time. “Our dear Zoey sure looks like the perfect victim now, doesn’t she?”

Wilson’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing as he caught the meaning behind Clint’s words. “What are you implying?”

Clint tilted his chin toward the guards. “Give the birthday girl her present.”

One of the bodyguards stepped forward and handed a box full of photos to Lottie.

Her fingers trembled so badly she almost dropped it. Clarence caught it just in time, steadying her hands.

No way… Could there really be more to Zoey’s death than everyone had believed?

Then what had all these years of guilt, of silence, even been for?

Lottie just stared at the box, frozen, too scared to open it.

Gabriel, who’d been watching like it was live TV, finally blurted out, “Want me to open it for you?”

Clarence shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel.

Gabriel raised both hands in mock surrender and turned to Clint. “Come on, man, don’t leave us hanging. You can’t just drop half a bomb and walk away. Share with the class, yeah?”

Around them, the guests murmured in agreement–curiosity gleaming in their eyes.

Clint’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course. If we’re digging up old ghosts, might as well let

everyone see them.”

He clapped his hands. “Go ahead. Roll it.”

The projector flickered to life. On screen appeared an elderly man–white hair, lab coat, glasses. He looked like someone’s kindly old doctor.

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19:58 Fri, Oct 17

Chapter 301 An Accident?

“Zoey? Yeah, I remember her,” he said. “She was my patient back then.

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“Breast cancer, stage three. If she’d stayed with treatment, she could’ve had another year- maybe more. But after seven, eight months, she suddenly quit. Stopped coming in, refused her pain meds. Just… walked out. Shame, really.”

A voice off–screen asked, “Why do you remember her so clearly?”

The doctor frowned, thinking. “Why? Maybe because I’d never seen a patient react like that before. Most people cry, break down. She laughed. Said she had something more important to do than save her own life. Something that’d make the rest of her time worth it.”

The footage faded, replaced by another clip–this time, a woman in her sixties. Plain clothes, lined face, the kind you’d pass in a market without noticing.

The Lancasters recognized her immediately–she had worked for the neighbors years ago, before moving back home.

“Oh, Ms. Claudia from next door? Of course I remember her,” the woman said with a small smile. “Such a sweet, pretty little girl. Always shared her candy and snacks with my grandkids.

“Her sixth birthday? Yeah, I remember that day clear as anything. The house I worked at had a window facing their yard. I saw Claudia’s cousin—the girl named Lydia, I think–stab a stray cat with a knife. The one Claudia had picked up off the street. The poor thing scratched her when it tried to fight back.

“Later that day, when I went out for groceries, I saw the woman Claudia called ‘Aunt,‘ holding her hand and showing her where the cat had run off to. Told her to catch it and hide it somewhere safe, or her parents would kill it for scratching her cousin.

“Honestly, I never liked that woman or her daughter. Something about them always gave me the chills.

“But that night, something terrible happened next door. The aunt died. And that little girl who hurt the cat… she ended up being taken in by the Lancaster family.

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