Chapter 8
Soft sobbing echoed through the courtroom.
Benjamin listened in a daze, then suddenly struggled to crawl toward my corpse, his hand trembling as he reached out.
“Charlotte, I’m sorry…”
Mason looked at him coldly and said, “Mr. Kingsley, it’s too late for apologies now.”
Benjamin’s tears rolled down his cheeks, hitting the floor.
He crawled toward my body with difficulty, as if using every ounce of strength he had left.
Benjamin finally reached my corpse and tremblingly lifted the
white sheet.
Though my face was gaunt and withered, my expression remained as peaceful as when he first met me.
My fingers, hanging at my side, were crushed and broken, and my arms were covered with needle marks from the psychiatric hospital.
These were all proof of the injustices I had suffered.
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In the final days of my life, I was imprisoned in our own home.
Yet until I died of illness, Benjamin never came back to see me again.
He was finally touching me again, but in this way.
“Charlotte, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”
Benjamin’s voice trembled as his tears dripped onto my face.
He leaned down and collapsed onto me, his shoulders shaking violently.
Olivia rushed over, trying to pull him away: “Benjamin! Don’t let her fool you! These memories are fake!”
Benjamin suddenly looked up, his eyes sharp as knives: “Then what about these?”
He pointed at the screen. Olivia bribing doctors to remove my uterus, Olivia deliberately releasing dogs to frighten me at the charity gala, Olivia forging evidence of me embezzling disaster relief funds, Olivia framing me for child abuse and murder…
All of these had ironclad evidence.
Only then did Olivia finally realize she could no longer argue, staggering backward with a pale face.
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The next second, she suddenly lunged at my corpse like a madwoman.
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“Charlotte, you bitch! Even in death you’re trying to destroy me!”
Mason immediately tackled her to the ground.
His hat fell off. Seeing his face clearly, I finally remembered who he was.
Ten years ago, I had sponsored an orphan from the slums.
He sent me letters every year–a grateful, good child.
But once rumors began spreading that I was insane, I cut off
contact with Mason.
I was afraid my bad reputation would affect his future, never imagining that to prove my innocence, Mason had resolutely chosen to study law.
Looking at my corpse, he said with heartbreak, “Ms. Parker, I’ve restored your reputation. You can rest in peace now.”
I floated over to him and leaned down, gently touching his head as I used to do.
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I said, “Thank you.”
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Mason seemed to sense something and looked up in confusion, but seeing nothing, he thought it was just his imagination.
Someone in the gallery was crying loudly.
Those who had once cursed me now all bowed their heads in
silence.
The big screen displayed a final line: [Memory extraction complete. Truth submitted to judicial authorities.]
Three months later, in a New York courthouse, Olivia was sentenced to death for multiple charges including intentional murder and evidence tampering.
Benjamin stood in the defendant’s dock, looking haggard.
“Defendant Benjamin Kingsley, for charges of negligent homicide and unlawful imprisonment, is sentenced to forty years in prison. Charlotte’s parents, for malicious embezzlement of disaster relief funds, are sentenced to forfeiture of all assets
and a tenfold fine.”
The judge’s voice echoed through the courtroom.
Benjamin nodded numbly, his gaze fixed on an empty seat in the gallery.
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He thought: “That’s where my wife should be sitting, if I still deserve to call her that.”
Benjamin suddenly let out a wail, frantically banging his head. against the wheelchair armrest.
“Let me die! Please let me die!”
The guards had to inject him with a sedative.
Before Benjamin completely lost consciousness, he seemed to glimpse me at twenty years old.
He thought he saw me in a white dress, smiling at the piano in the concert hall, gently reaching out my hand to him.
“Benjamin, would you like to hear the new piano piece I learned?”
The End.
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