Chapter Eighty-One – The model, Charles.
(Third Person Narrative Intended)
The timber house was empty. After their long walk and habitual cries of fear, they ended in the middle of nothing.
“Of Course, she can’t be here. This is where her body would be. She isn’t dead yet but at the Villa” Jacob muttered to himself.
“She's not here?” Chloe held her head trying to contain so it’ll not explode.
“I’m calling the police then” Jasper sighed and began dialing. He sent a quick text to Reuben to tell him they’re okay, he had called a lot earlier.
Chris collapsed besides the entrance, both in fatigue and defeat. He brought out his bottle go take some water but it was empty.
Jacob looked around.
His mind and heart judging him for his incompetence as he’s on the way of losing another person to the Martinez's cruelty.
“Yes? Timber house? Yes, there” Chloe hung up on her phone and squeaked to the others, “Charles is outside the entrance, let’s go”.
