Chapter 6: The Weight of Regret

Her steps were slow, almost hesitant, as if she knew she wasn’t welcome.

But Savannah jumped up in an instant, backing away:

She scrambled backward, eyes wild.

"Don’t come near me! I told you, your death had nothing to do with me. Why are you still haunting me?"

She spat the words out, her hands shaking. The woman just stared, heartbreak etched on her face.

After she finished, the woman vanished, replaced by Headless Annie.

The air went cold. Annie crawled out from the shadows, her head tucked under her arm.

She lay where the woman disappeared, and as soon as Savannah saw her, she started crawling creepily across the ground.

Annie’s movements were jerky, unnatural. Savannah’s scream echoed off the empty houses.

She crawled and laughed, shouting:

"Give me back my life! Give me back my life!"

The words were distorted, like a broken record. Savannah tried to cover her ears, but it didn’t help.

Savannah screamed and tried to run, but her legs were weak. She only managed a few steps before falling.

She hit the ground hard, scraping her knees. Dirt smeared her dress.

Even after falling, she struggled to get up and keep running—her will to survive was strong. But just as she was about to stand, Quartered Mike teleported in front of her.

He appeared in a flash, his stitched-together limbs looming over her. Savannah’s eyes rolled back, and she went limp.

After meeting his eyes, Savannah fainted dead away.

I laughed so hard I nearly fell over, but I was still puzzled. From here, Savannah’s mom looked like a typical small-town woman.

She wore jeans, work boots, and a faded tee. Nothing like the socialite Savannah pretended to be.

How did she become the daughter of the richest man?

There had to be a story there. I made a mental note to dig deeper.

Could it be... a switched-at-birth story?

The pieces started to fit together. No wonder Savannah was so desperate to hide her past.

After Savannah fainted, the mind space changed. Headless Annie woke her with a bucket of water.

Savannah sputtered, coughing. She blinked up at Annie, terror flickering in her eyes.

Savannah woke up to find a teenage girl with a messy ponytail—her younger self—standing next to her, along with the woman and a man in a reflective vest.

The girl looked sullen, hugging a frayed backpack. The man wiped his brow, dust streaking his face.

He had calloused hands and sun-baked skin, but looked honest.

He had kind eyes and a gentle smile. He reached out, but Savannah recoiled.

"Savannah, what do you want for dinner? Dad’s coming home tonight, let’s have something nice. You choose, okay?"

The woman smiled kindly, but Savannah was completely ungrateful:

She rolled her eyes, arms crossed. Her younger self muttered something under her breath.

"What’s the point? I want Maine lobster. Can you buy it for me?"

Her voice was cold, demanding. The woman’s smile faltered.

"And don’t pick me up from school anymore, you both smell. What will my classmates think?"

The woman looked ashamed, the man angry, but was stopped by the woman:

She touched his arm, shaking her head. He clenched his fists, but said nothing.

"Don’t be mad, you rarely come home from the construction site. Savannah, what do you want... lobster, right? Where can we buy that? I’ll go now."

Her voice was soft, hopeful. Savannah just sneered.

Savannah sneered:

"Can you afford it? Oh, I heard the richest man in our town is back. See if you can get me adopted by him."

She said it like a joke, but there was real venom behind her words.

Just then, a car horn blared behind her. Savannah turned to see a black Cadillac speeding toward them.

The headlights were blinding. The woman grabbed Savannah, trying to pull her out of the way.

The woman pulled Savannah out of the way, but just when I thought they were safe, Savannah pushed her parents into the car’s path.

Time seemed to slow. The car hit with a sickening crunch. Blood pooled on the cracked pavement.

The Cadillac ran over them, and when it stopped, her parents were mangled.

The scene was gruesome. Even I had to look away.

Her mother’s head rolled to a stop by Savannah’s feet. The silence was deafening.

My stomach turned.

Even in my wildest guesses, I never imagined this.

And the teenage Savannah, after smelling the driver’s breath, broke down in tears, but after negotiating with him—probably for hush money—she smiled triumphantly.

She wiped her eyes, then shook hands with the driver. I felt sick.