Chapter 89
"George! Are we just going to let this go? That bastard Harold Martin gets to walk free?" Clara Clark clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She loathed the Martin family for ruining her daughter’s life. What decent man would want to marry Lily now?
Mayor George Clark sat in silence, chain-smoking, the ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts.
Clara’s muffled sobs cut through him like a knife. He had never felt so powerless. His wife couldn’t even cry openly, afraid of being overheard. If this scandal spread, not only would their family be shamed, but the entire Clark and Jackson clans would become the talk of the village.
"Say something! Are we just going to let our daughter suffer like this?" Clara wished she could stab Harold Martin herself.
George glanced at Lily’s closed bedroom door and lowered his voice. "First, we’ll take her to get rid of the baby. Harold won’t get away with this. As long as the Martins stay in this village, I’ll make them kneel and beg for forgiveness."
At his words, Clara’s tears fell harder.
But that very night, Lily vanished. Clara remembered Luna’s warning and panicked. If that foolish girl had gone to one of those back-alley clinics, she’d be risking her life.
George rallied relatives and friends to search for her. When Luna White returned to the village, she ran into Clara and her sister, Elizabeth, trudging back in defeat. After a full day and night of searching, there was no sign of Lily.
"Aunt Clara, what’s wrong?" Luna was shocked. In just a few days, Clara had aged a decade—deep wrinkles framed her eyes, and her hair had turned half-gray.
The moment Clara saw Luna, tears streamed down her face. She grabbed Luna’s hands desperately. "Luna, Lily’s gone! How am I supposed to go on like this?"
Elizabeth Jackson gritted her teeth beside them. "If anything happens to Lily, I swear I’ll tear the Martin house apart! Harold thinks he can become a factory worker? In his dreams!"
Luna’s heart sank. Lily had taken the same path as before—despite her warning.
"Don’t panic, Aunt Clara. Do you have any idea where Lily might have gone?"
Clara shook her head, her vision blurring as she nearly collapsed. Luna caught her just in time. The days of anguish had finally broken her.
"Yesterday, the Martins came to force Lily into marriage. After the argument, she disappeared... Luna, I’m afraid she might do something reckless..." Clara’s legs gave way.
Luna and Elizabeth quickly helped her home. The moment Clara lay down, she spiked a fever, murmuring Lily’s name in delirium.
When George rushed back and saw his wife in such a state, even the tough man’s eyes reddened as he crouched in the yard.
Luna’s chest tightened. In her past life, Lily had met her fate tonight. If she remembered correctly, Lily had gone to the illegal clinic in Shilipu—the one by the crooked tree the villagers said was cursed.
"Uncle George!" Luna pulled him up urgently. "On my way back, someone said they saw Lily heading toward Shilipu! Take the tractor and go now!"
George didn’t hesitate. He called for Paul Jackson, and within minutes, the tractor rumbled toward Shilipu with half a dozen men.
The night was pitch-black, the tractor’s headlights slicing through the darkness. Luna clung to the railing, praying silently: Please, let us make it in time.