8
Having dealt with Isabelle, I sauntered back to my den for a good night’s sleep, eagerly awaiting the moment my family would flip my old mattress
and find those SD cards.
Just as I was drifting off, my consciousness grew hazy, and my soul began to float. This happened from time to time. I was a human soul, after all,
not a perfect fit for a monkey’s body. I’d occasionally pop out for a bit.
This was good. It meant I could go watch the show.
A few moments later, I was hovering inside the familiar Hawthorne manor. I found the three of them at the dinner table. They were looking at the
text my mother had received, their faces etched with confusion.
The message was cryptic: [Mom, check under Stella’s mattress】
“Isabelle sent this? What’s it about?” my father asked, putting down his fork and dialing her number. There was no answer.
My mother stood up, forcing a smile, “Isabelle didn’t get to enjoy the zoo yesterday, so she went back again today. She’s probably just busy having
fun.”
Then why would she tell you to look under Stella’s mattress? Isn’t that… bad luck?” my brother Liam asked, his face a cold, emotionless mask.
My mother shook her head. “I’ll go take a look.”
“I’ll have the staff do it. You can’t lift that thing,” my father said, waving over the butler.
Soon, the mattress in the spare room on the third floor was overturned. A dozen or so SD cards scattered across the floor, looking like they had
been there for a long time.
“SD cards? What are these?” my father muttered, trying Isabelle’s number again. Still no answer.
Liam stood in the doorway, a lazy smirk on his face. “Oh, Stella’s SD cards. I know about these. She used to claim they had footage of Isabelle bullying her. I didn’t realize she’d collected so many.”
“I remember now,” my father said, kicking at one of the cards with his shoe, equally nonchalant. “She tried to get me to watch one once, but I was
busy.”
My mother, however, looked thoughtful. She instructed the housekeeper to gather them and play them in the living room.
“Mom, there’s no point,” Liam said, crossing his arms. “Stella was always trying to drive Isabelle out. She probably staged these scenes, baiting Isabelle into ‘bullying‘ her so she could record it and trick us.” He let out a derisive snort. “Isabelle probably wants us to watch them so we can all have a good laugh at how pathetic Stella was.”
My father nodded in agreement and told the butler to throw the cards away.
Only my mother hesitated, shaking her head. “Let’s just watch. It won’t take long.”
