?Chapter 1044:


    “Brenda Hudson… Dederick Hudson…” Sadie murmured, her voice quavering as the cherished names tumbled from her lips into the night.


    These precious names had echoed in the chambers of her heart for years, an unending mantra she had refused to relinquish.


    Tears pooled in her eyes before cascading down her cheeks like shattered pearls, dampening the parched grass below.


    After seventeen agonizing years of searching, she had atst found them—her beloved parents, interred in this forsaken hill, denied even the dignity of a proper memorial stone.


    Her knees buckled beneath the weight of emotion, and she crumpled to the ground, extending quivering hands toward the marker.


    Her fingertips brushed against the frigid stone, desperately seeking some lingering echo of their warmth beneath its unforgiving surface.


    “Dad… Mom…” she managed through a throat constricted with grief, her words fracturing under the weight of unrestrained sobs.


    Every fragment of sorrow and yearning she had entombed within her soul erupted in that singr, shattering moment.


    “I’ve found you finally,” she whispered, the simple deration carrying the weight of a thousand sleepless nights.


    “I’ll bring you home… Please, if you’re watching from beyond, guide me to the one who murdered you,” she pleaded, her words drifting upward into the vast night sky.


    Her whispers caressed the stone as her tear-stained features slowly transformed, crystallizing into a mask of unwavering determination. Sadie rose to her feet, drawing in a profound, fortifying breath that filled her lungs with purpose.


    The anguish remained undiminished—but now it smoldered with newfound resolve, fueling her instead of consuming her.


    gα ? ησ ν?? ??s has it all


    She brushed away her tears with the back of her hand and turned her attention to the task before her.


    Her eyes detected an anomaly beneath the marker—an irregr b, evidently ater addition, that failed to align properly with the encircling soil.


    She attempted to hoist it upward, summoning every ounce of her strength, but the stubborn b refused to yield.


    Noah moved forward, his voice calm and reassuring. “Let me handle this.”


    He lowered himself beside her, secured his fingers around the b’s rough edge, and heaved upward, his muscles corded with exertion. United in their effort, they seeded in dislodging the heavy stone and shoving it away.


    Beneathy a humble, unassuming grave. Within rested two austere y urns, positioned side by side—unembellished, modest, yet profoundly eloquent in their silence.


    Sadie knelt and gathered the urns with the tender reverence one reserved for handling irreceable relics.


    She clutched them against her heart, acutely aware of their physical heft and immeasurable emotional significance.


    .


    .


    .