The Flower That Grew from Ashes novel Chapter 50

2 AM.

The entire Lehman Estate was submerged in a deathly silence.

Suddenly, a woman's terrified, distorted scream echoed from the end of the second-floor hallway.

"Ah—!"

The sound ripped through the quiet night like a jagged ice pick.

Immediately following it was Lizzie's sobbing, panic-stricken wailing.

"Elias! Elias! Don't leave! Please don't go!"

The staff were jolted awake, rushing frantically out of their rooms. The second floor was instantly flooded with light and thrown into chaos.

Annelise was woken up as well.

She and Clarissa pushed their respective doors open at almost the exact same moment.

The two women exchanged a glance, both recognizing the same truth in each other's eyes.

Lizzie was having another nightmare.

Clarissa reacted fastest.

Wearing only a silk blush-pink nightgown, she didn't even stop to grab a robe before sprinting into Lizzie's room first.

"Mom! Mom! What is it? Don't be afraid, it was just a bad dream, I'm right here!"

Annelise followed behind but remained standing in the doorway, choosing not to enter.

She watched Lizzie sitting up in bed, trembling violently like a terrified child.

Her hair was a mess, her eyes unfocused, and her face was soaked in tears as she chanted the same name over and over in a continuous loop.

"Elias... my Elias..."

Clarissa threw herself at the bedside, pulling Lizzie tightly into a hug, gently patting her back as if coaxing an infant.

"Mom, it's okay, it's just a dream, dreams aren't real. Look, I'm right here with you, I'm not going anywhere."

Like clutching onto her final lifeline, Lizzie dug her fingers fiercely into Clarissa's arm, her nails nearly drawing blood.

Under Clarissa's gentle soothing, her hysteria slowly began to subside.

Annelise stood by the door, watching the scene in silence.

Not a single ripple of emotion stirred in her heart.

In Lizzie's mind, Clarissa—the woman grieving her eldest son—was the only 'living memory' left of him.

Because of this, her reliance on and trust in Clarissa far exceeded what she felt for Annelise, the official, legitimate wife of her living son.

Over the years, whenever Lizzie suffered a mental breakdown from missing Elias, it was always Clarissa by her side.

And Annelise was always left standing at the doorway, exactly like this—an awkward, redundant outsider.

Gradually, Lizzie's breathing steadied.

She raised her head, and her swollen, tear-streaked eyes looked right past Clarissa's shoulder, locking in a dead stare onto Annelise by the door.

In the dim light, her gaze looked uncomfortably lucid, yet carried a chilling, bizarre intensity.

"Annelise."

She spoke suddenly, her voice raspy but alarmingly clear.

"Do you know?"

"In the four years you've been married into this family, Elias... has never visited me in my dreams. Not once."

Annelise's heart felt as though it had been lightly stung.

Then Lizzie spoke again, her words dripping with pure malice, delivered slowly like a curse.

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