He then continued to explain, "I personally arranged several rituals for her and I will definitely bless her to have a good rebirth."
It turned out that they had arranged to kill Aishlyn all this time. They even didn't let her go in a peace!
I was so angry that my eyes turned black. I rushed into the fire regardless of the burns and picked up my daughter's photos and hair.
"What are you doing?!"
As soon as the question fell, Linda picked up a wooden stick and smashed it hard on my head. My ears were buzzing and warm liquid kept flowing down on my nose.
Linda held the wooden stick and her eyes were fierce. She shouted angrily, "You dare to interrupt my daughter's ritual, I want you to die!" She smashed the stick again to me fiercely.
I groaned in pain and went blurred. It seemed that the third blow was about to come.
Tristan raised his hand to hold the wooden stick. He hugged Linda in his arms and comforted her. The man turned around and yelled at me. "It's just a photograph and some pieces of hair. What were you thinking? We’re only cleaning Aishlyn’s room. You’re really vicious. You don’t want to make Linda happy, do you?
"She has severe postpartum depression! "
Linda had had several nannies to take care of her since she became pregnant. She received both recovery and psychological counselling after giving birth.
At that time, she was leaning on Tristan's arms and looking at me with provocative eyes, without any signs of depression at all.
My face was as gloomy as water. I madly said to him, "Aishlyn is your biological daughter!"
Tristan frowned, "I know. Then what's the problem? Xena is also my daughter. Aishlyn is dead after all, then what's wrong with her protecting her alive sister? Aishlyn is obedient and sensible. If she were still alive, she would definitely agree with me to do this."
My daughter had been well-behaved and sensible since she was young. She had always wanted to be recognized by Tristan, but Tristan stayed in his secret room all year round and never said a word to her.
On the night of her punishment, Tristan took a plane in the next morning to take care of Linda's baby delivery. My daughter could have called for help, but she was afraid of making him unhappy, so she insisted on staying.
When she was dying, Aishlyn’s curled body was frozen. There was a family portrait of three that she had drawn herself in her hand.