The Bound Between Us

Chapter 501

Anastasia Jewell couldn't resist dropping the bombshell with a glint of mischief in her eyes.

She was testing the waters, curious to see how Julie Brown would react to the mention of Grandma Anita's

passing.

At the mention of Grandma Anita, a flicker of guilt and dread flashed through Julie's eyes-a telltale sign of a

secret teetering on the brink of exposure.

Recalling her cousin Devin's advice, Julie steadied her nerves and retorted, "I've had dreams, you know. | dreamt

of Grandma Anita, restless in her grave, lamenting how her killer walks free. You're the murderer, Anastasia. You

belong in the fiery pits, keeping her company."

Julie was a master of disguise, her face a mask that betrayed nothing, even under Anastasia's scrutinizing gaze.

Anastasia leaned in closer, her voice laced with a calculated chill. She thought of Jason and the lack of progress

in the case, and decided it was tto rattle the snake before her.

"Yeah, Grandma Anita sure didn't rest in peace," she taunted. "Who would've thought she'd die at the hands of

the person she trusted the most? Right, Ms. Brown?" Julie's facade cracked at that.

Her face went ghostly pale as she stumbled backward, eyes wide with shock. Anastasia's words had hit too close

to home, stirring the guilt that Julie harbored within. This time, Anastasia caught every flicker of emotion across

Julie's face, a wave of triumph washing over her. If Julie was rattled, then the suspicions were likely true.

Anastasia seized Julie's hand, her gaze piercing. "Ms. Brown, what are you scared of? You look sick. You'd better

take care of yourself, especially with a baby on the way. Wouldn't want to wake up one morning to another loss,

now would we?"

Even without concrete evidence, Anastasia's instincts told her that Julie's past manipulations around Grandma

Anita weren't innocent. And Anastasia had no qualms about pushing those buttons.

With every word, Anastasia seemed to stomp on Julie's tail, leaving her desperate to escape the confrontation.

"I-1 don't understand what you're saying," Julie stammered, pulling away and feigning composure. "Rest assured,

I'll bring my child into this world safely. Not everyone gets what's coming to them like you, Anastasia."

Anastasia's response was a cold, mocking smile. "How magnanimous of you, Ms. Brown."

Julie could no longer stand being in Anastasia's presence, her piercing eyes too much to bear. She left the

dessert untouched and fled.

Watching her retreat, Anastasia called out, "If you don't want people to know, don't do it."

The meaning behind those words resonated deeply.

Julie quickened her pace, eager to leave.

After she was gone, Anastasia texted Jason: "The snake you've been watching? | gave it a startle."

Jason sighed upon reading her message. Anastasia was never one to hold back, but sometimes a little shake-up

was necessary.

Later that afternoon, after buying a cake, Anastasia picked up little Pattie from daycare and headed to the

restaurant Cynthia had reserved for her birthday a modest celebration with two tables of guests in a private

room.

As Anastasia arrived, the mood shifted palpably. Her reputation as an accused murderer preceded her, and

Cynthia's relative didn't hesitate to confront her: "Cynthia, why do you still associate with her? She's a murderer,

aren't you afraid of the trouble she might bring?" Anastasia had seen these faces before when she was Mrs.

Salstrom. Back then, they'd sought her favor, but now they kept their distance. Her downfall was too great, and

her ties to the Salstroms too damning.

But Anastasia, who had weathered the storm of prison, was unfazed by their whispers and stares.

She approached Cynthia with Pattie in tow, presenting the cake with a smile. "Aunt Cindy, happy birthday! May

you grow younger and healthier with each passing year."

Pattie, though not fond of Cynthia, dutifully wished her a happy birthday.

"Thank you," Cynthia replied with a painted-on smile, then casually inquired about Anastasia's mother.

"She's not off work yet, but she'll be here soon," Anastasia assured her.

Gianna Edmunds, tired of being paraded around by relatives, called Anastasia over to sit with her.

As soon as Anastasia joined her, the relative who had been busy matchmaking for Gianna excused herself.

The children in the room played noisily, but Pattie remained quiet, aloof from the others.

Chatting with Gianna, Anastasia asked, "Was that your aunt trying to set you up just now?"

Gianna chuckled, "A widow attracts gossip like a magnet. Ever since my divorce, matchmakers have been

practically knocking down my door."

Anastasia tossed the question casually, "Didn't you mention the last tthat there was someone you fancied?

How are things going with that guy from Montgomery? It's been a while, and you promised to introduce us, yet

we've never seen hide nor hair of him." "No dice," Gianna replied with an honesty that didn't mask her

disappointment. She knew where Herman stood, and it spelled a dead end.

Anastasia didn't bother to probe further. She sat back, cracking open sunflower seeds, sharing sfruit with

Pattie, contentedly awaiting dinner. She was in a surprisingly good mood.

Even when whispered gossip fluttered about the private dining room, she chose to turn a deaf ear.

This composure earned Gianna's silent respect. She had asked Cynthia to invite Anastasia and her kin to dine

with them, hoping to give Anastasia a taste of being the subject of gossip, to cushion the blow of the humiliation

she had faced at Herman's hands the night before.

Yet Anastasia acted as though she hadn't a care in the world.

Gianna furrowed her brow, then stood up, saying, "I'm off to the ladies’ room for a bit, Anastasia. You just sit tight

and relax."

"Mhm," Anastasia replied nonchalantly, still busy with her seeds.

But as Gianna rose, a group of rowdy kids in the room knocked her purse from the chair, spilling its contents

much like the incident in the car before. Among the items that tumbled out was the handkerchief Herman had

given to Gianna.

Even though it had been cut and sewn back together, altered beyond its original state, Anastasia recognized it

instantly. It was Herman's handkerchief, unmistakable with the embroidered 'F' in one corner - Herman's distinct

mark. Anastasia's eyes darkened as she picked up the handkerchief, her gaze piercing Gianna, "Whose

handkerchief is this?"

Her tone was icy, her suspicion confirmed - this was Herman's belonging.

Why would Gianna keep Herman's things?

Why mend it after cutting it up?

Why hide it from her last time?

There was only one explanation - Gianna was guilty; she had fallen for Herman.

Gianna panicked, at a loss for words. Friends and family glanced over, puzzled by the commotion. Cynthia

approached, asking, "What's all this about? It's just a handkerchief, what's the big deal?"

Anastasia's gaze remained frosty as she demanded an answer from Gianna, "I'll ask you one more time, whose

handkerchief is this, and how did it end up with you?"

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