Days passed, and the closed door suddenly swung open. Eliana, thinking it was Dylan, grabbed an ornament from the bedside table and hurled it towards the door.

"Eliana, you're not dead yet? Why don't you go die with your father?"

Mrs. Cunningham had used some means to incapacitate the bodyguard standing at the door. She entered the room, holding a bottle of pills, her disfigured face even more grotesque than before.

"It's you? You're the one who killed my dad, you murderer! I'll kill you!"

"I'm the murderer? Eliana, open your dog eyes and take a good look at my face. Let me tell you who the real murderer is."...