As Cole hung up, Amelia could feel her blood running dry. She was already feeling frustrated and heartbroken about Adrian's loss but that was all childish play from Cole? She walked into the house hesitantly, using each minute to take a step. Adrian was already in his room, probably waiting for her, Lydia must be around the house, carrying out her last check out in the house before going to bed it was a good time to be lost in thoughts and not bothered about who is around you.
"Cole is a psychopath" she muttered venting out on her dress as she squeezed her dress so hard that she was almost loosening the threads. She walked into her room and sat on the bed facing the small framed painting of her, from Dayle that Cole had gifted her. It wasn't just about the art or artist it was the memory
