They Sent Me To Prison For Her, I Bought A Grave For Me Chapter 06

They Sent Me To Prison For Her, I Bought A Grave For Me Chapter 06

Crispin called Mirelle for the ninth time.

Once again, it went straight to voicemail.

Panic began to set in.

Jessa studied his face and forced a small smile..

“Crispin, she’s fine. We saw the statements from Westmoor. No one hurt her. She’s doing all this

for attention-”

“Shut up!”

He rounded on her so violently that she flinched.

Her eyes filled at once.

“Are you angry because Nimbus took her plot? I’ll have them move his ashes. I’ll do it right now.”

Any other day, Crispin would have pulled her into his arms and reassured her.

This time, he only yanked his tie loose.

“Do whatever you want.”

Then he got into his car and tore out of the cemetery.

He left too quickly to see the hurt vanish from Jessa’s face, replaced by something cold.

Crispin drove straight to Mirelle’s apartment in East Greyfen.

He reached into his pocket for the duplicate key he had paid a locksmith twenty dollars to make the

day before.

His hands shook as he unlocked the door.

Everything inside looked exactly as it had when he left.

For one brief second, relief loosened his chest.

“Who are you?”

He turned.

A short-haired woman stood in the hallway, watching him with open suspicion.

“I’ve already rented this place to someone else,” she said. Her gaze swept over his expensive suit. “You’re not one of Ms. Fallow’s relatives, are you?”

Then her expression softened with pity.

“No. She didn’t have any family.”

“I’m related to her,” Crispin said quickly.

I’m her brother.

The words lodged in his throat.

The woman frowned.

“A distant relative? You came looking for her?”

She shook her head.

“You’re too late. She ended her lease yesterday.”

Crispin swayed.

“What?”

“You need to leave. The new tenant will be moving in soon.”

She started to usher him toward the door, then stopped when she saw his bloodshot eyes.

“Do you know where she went?” he asked.

The woman’s suspicion returned.

“How would I know? That poor girl kept to herself. Sick that young, too.”

She glanced at his clothes again.

“You look like you have money. If you’re family, why didn’t you help her?”

Mirelle was sick.

The cemetery staff knew.

Her neighbors knew.

Everyone knew except him.

Crispin forced himself to stand straight.

“I need to collect my sister’s things.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed.

“You’re her brother?”

He nodded.

“Prove it.”

Crispin went still.

How was he supposed to prove it?

Since Mirelle had returned to the Wexley family, he had never treated her like a sister.

He barely remembered leaving the building.

Somehow, he ended up sitting on the curb outside, calling her again and again while every attempt

went unanswered.

By the time Jessa arrived, his face had gone gray.

The sight of him startled her, but she quickly slipped an arm through his.

“Crispin, she’s probably hiding because she’s angry. Let’s go back to the hotel. We can keep looking

from there.”

She tried to pull him to his feet.

Before he could move, a black sedan stopped at the curb.

Ephraim stepped out.

“People at the company keep asking,” he said. “When are we bringing Mirelle back to Kingsmere?”

Jessa’s head snapped toward him.

“Bringing her back?”

Disbelief sharpened her voice.

“Why would we bring her back?”