Charlotte Thompson’s eyes widened slightly, and her hands tightened. She endeavored to sound casual, "Annie, perhaps you shouldn’t be asking me about this."
At these words, Annie Anne also looked somewhat puzzled at her.
Charlotte Thompson sold a bit of suspense, subtly grinning, "Why not ask yourself?"
"I can tell you that you have indeed forgotten many things. But these are things you need to remember for yourself." ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ NoveIꜰire.net
Back when Annie Anne was undergoing treatment in Ashton, Charlotte Thompson had also been present on a few occasions, so she was somewhat familiar with her condition.
The psychiatrist had told her repeatedly that Annie’s condition was anything but optimistic.
If the truth was forcefully revealed, or if Annie was forced to remember, her emotions would endure significant pressure. Furthermore, it could backfire, resulting in irreparable consequences.
So everything still depended on Annie.
"Ask myself?" Annie muttered to herself, her eyes betraying unmistakable pain and confusion.
She was somewhat fervently tousling her hair, her emotions teetering on the brink of collapse.
In her mind, there were indeed a few clear glimpses of shards of memories that flashed by, but they were as elusive as wisps of smoke, impossible to capture or perceive.
Suddenly, she crouched down, letting out a grievous scream.
Charlotte Thompson’s heart skipped a beat. She crouched down and gently patted Annie’s back. Sensing a slight trembling coming from Annie’s body, she turned her head away, unable to bear it. Softly, she said, "Annie, calm down. Don’t force yourself to remember."
She closed her eyes, her mind racing, trying to find out the most appropriate way to subtly remind Annie.
Annie’s body was still trembling.
Inspiration struck Charlotte. Her eyes lit up. She gently tilted her head downward and whispered, "Annie, don’t think about anything. Let me sing a song for you."
Without waiting for Annie to respond, she started singing autonomously.
In the quiet environment, only her ethereal voice remained.
Listening to the song, Annie suddenly stopped trembling and slowly lifted her head.
This song was a lullaby composed by Annie when she had just given birth to Olivia Thompson. Despite barely having the strength, she insisted on retrieving a pencil and paper to write. Overwhelmed by tears, she sang to Olivia.
It seemed like the memories traveled back to five years ago with this song. As a flood of recollections surged in, her previously confused look gradually cleared, and her distressed and frantic look calmed down.
When Charlotte finished singing, Annie lowered her gaze to her slightly trembling hands. A tear fell, striking hard on her hand.
Charlotte Thompson handed her a tissue. Annie received it, gripping it tightly in her hand.
She closed her eyes. Her voice was frighteningly hoarse.
"Charlotte, I remember now."
"I remember the ruthlessness of Oliver Hudson towards me, and all the sins he committed against me."
She threw her head back, struggling to restrain her tears.
"No wonder Olivia Thompson was called Olivia. It turns out that she is my daughter, the child I gave birth to five years ago after a harrowing escape to Ashton with a wrecked body."
"I remember everything. I was worried that if Oliver Hudson found out about the existence of this child, he would harm her. So I entrusted the little one to you. I can still recall the relentless snowfall for several days. My heart was as cold as the weather."
Annie’s voice was choked, each word strenuously escaping her throat.
Charlotte Thompson’s eyes welled up with tears. She patted Annie’s back and whispered softly, "It’s okay, Annie. I’m here."