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The night stretched on, an interminable canvas of shadows and chilling whispers in Delia’s mind. Sleep was a distant shore she couldn’t reach, her thoughts a tumultuous sea. Every creak of the old house, every rustle of the wind outside, seemed to carry the echo of Frank’s low, dangerous growl: “P...
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65. Sixty five
66. Sixty six
67. Sixty seven
68. sixty eight
69. sixty nine
70. chapter 70
71. seventy one
72. seventy two
73. seventy three
74. seventy four
75. seventy five
76. seventy six
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