Chapter 334

The sound of rushing water filled my ears as I stood frozen in shock, staring at the phone sinking into the toilet bowl. Mia's words echoed in my mind, a painful reminder of the betrayal that had just occurred.

For a moment, I was paralyzed, unable to comprehend what had just happened. But then, as if shaken from a trance, I sprinted into action. Without a second thought, I reached into the toilet, my fingers closing around the slick surface of the phone.

As I pulled it out, water dripped from its casing, and panic surged through me. What had I done? How could I have been so reckless?

I cursed under my breath as I tried to turn the phone on, but the screen remained blank, refusing to come to life. Desperation clawed at my chest as I realized the extent of the damage I had caused.

With a sinking feeling in my gut, I rushed out of the restroom, the phone clutched tightly in my hand. As I hurried down the hallway, I nearly collided with Lucas, who was coming from the opposite direction.

"Evie, what's going on?" he asked, his brow furrowed with concern.

I didn't have time to explain. "I need to get home," I said breathlessly, my heart pounding in my chest. "I have to find out what's on Aria's phone."

Lucas's expression darkened as he realized the gravity of the situation. "I'll come with you," he said, falling into step beside me.

Together, we rushed out of the building and into the cool air, the urgency of our mission driving us forward.

Back at the apartment, I wasted no time in filling a bowl with rice and carefully placing Aria's phone inside, hoping against hope that it would absorb the water and bring the device back to life. But with each passing moment, my anxiety only grew.

As I waited anxiously for any sign of life from the phone, Lucas paced back and forth, his brow furrowed with worry.

"What if Timothy doesn't get out?" he asked suddenly, his voice thick with emotion.

I shook my head, refusing to entertain the thought. "I can't think about that," I said, my voice trembling with fear. "I won't."

But even as I spoke the words, doubt gnawed at the edges of my mind. What if Timothy was trapped, unable to escape the sinking ship? What then?

Lucas must have sensed my unease because he reached out and squeezed my hand reassuringly. "We'll find him," he said firmly. "I promise."

I nodded, grateful for his support. But even as his words washed over me, my thoughts were consumed by the image of Timothy, alone and afraid, trapped in the darkness below.

As the hours passed, the tension in the apartment grew palpable, thick with the weight of uncertainty. And in the midst of it all, Lucas turned to me with a question that cut straight to the heart of our dilemma.

"Can you trust Mia after what she did at the hospital?" he asked, his gaze searching mine for answers.

I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Mia's actions had shaken me to the core, revealing a side of her that I had never seen before. But despite everything, she was still my mother, and I couldn't bring myself to give up on her completely.

"She's more involved than I could've imagined," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "She has Stella's wedding dress in her possession."

The revelation seemed to shock Lucas, his eyes widening with disbelief. "Stella's wedding dress?" he repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Wha-Why?"

I shook my head, my mind reeling with possibilities. "I don't know," I said, frustration creeping into my voice. "But whatever it is, we need to find out."

The shrill ring of my phone pierced through the heavy silence of the apartment, jolting me out of my restless thoughts. With a sense of trepidation, I glanced at the caller ID and felt my heart leap into my throat. It was a call from the prison.

Without hesitation, I answered, my voice trembling with anticipation. "Timothy? How are you holding up?"

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line, followed by Timothy's strained voice. "I've been better, Evie," he said, his words heavy with resignation. "They're planning on sentencing me to 25 years if I can't come up with some solid evidence. And they're trying to pin it on Andy too."

My heart sank at his words, a cold dread settling in the pit of my stomach. Twenty-five years. It felt like a death sentence, a lifetime robbed from us both.

"Why?" I demanded, my voice rising with anger. "Why does my mother want you to go down so badly?"

Timothy let out a bitter laugh. "Your guess is as good as mine, Evie," he said, his tone bitter with resentment. "But I'm not going down without a fight. I swear to you, I'll find a way out of this mess."

I felt a surge of hope swell within me at his words, but it was quickly overshadowed by a sense of urgency. We were running out of time, and if we didn't act fast, Timothy would be lost to me forever.

"Hang tight, Timothy," I said, determination lacing my voice. "I'm one step closer to finding the truth. And I have a feeling my mother might be involved."

There was a tense silence on the other end of the line, broken only by the sound of Timothy's ragged breathing. And then, finally, he spoke.

"Your mother?" he repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Why would she be involved?"

I hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. But then, with a sinking feeling in my gut, I knew that I had to tell him the truth.

"Because of the messages she's been receiving from a stranger," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I think it was Quinton, Timothy. I think he's been working with her all along."

There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line, followed by a low, guttural growl of anger. "That son of a bitch," Timothy spat, his voice thick with rage. "I trusted him, Evie. I trusted him with everything."

I felt a pang of guilt at the pain in his voice, knowing that I was the one who had brought this betrayal to light. But there was no time for regrets, not when our future hung in the balance.

As I listened to Timothy's angry tirade, I glanced down at Aria's phone, my heart skipping a beat as I saw the screen flicker to life. Could this be it? Could we finally have the evidence we needed to clear Timothy's name?

But before I could even process the possibility, a robotic voice filled the room, cutting through the tension like a knife.

"Thirty seconds remaining," it said, its words ringing in my ears like a death knell.

My heart plummeted as I realized what was happening. If we didn't act fast, we would lose our chance at salvation forever.

With a sinking feeling in my chest, I turned to Timothy, my voice trembling with fear. "We have to hurry," I said, my words barely above a whisper. "We're running out of time."