Chapter 802 - 799: Nightmare

Chapter 802: Chapter 799: Nightmare

Clara Grant walked over, her curiosity piqued. "What are you all talking about?"

"Oh, Clara, you’re here?" greeted the actress standing in the center of the group. "We were just talking about Roxanne."

"Roxanne? What happened to her?" Clara asked, still looking confused.

Though she had never met Roxanne in person, she had certainly heard the name. Roxanne had been an actress under Aegis and had held quite a prominent status, second only to Faye Jennings at the time.

However, a year ago, she had suddenly chosen to retire from acting and leave the entertainment industry altogether. At the time, news reports claimed that Roxanne had met her Mr. Right and willingly sacrificed her career for love.

There had been no news of her since. Everyone assumed she had married her true love and was living a peaceful, happy life. Clara had watched many of Roxanne’s shows in the past and quite liked her. While she had felt a tinge of regret over the actress’s retirement, the thought of Roxanne finding a man she truly loved and living happily ever after felt like a beautiful ending, so Clara had quickly made peace with it.

"Haven’t you seen the news?" the actress asked, snapping Clara out of her thoughts. She handed Clara her phone. "The news says Roxanne has gone mad."

Clara froze for a moment before taking the phone, her brow furrowing. "...How? How is that possible?"

"The articles say Roxanne got pregnant a few months ago, only to discover afterward that the man already had a wife and children.

"In a fit of rage, Roxanne aborted her baby, even though she was already five or six months along. The baby was fully formed by the time she got rid of it.

"But after the abortion, when she saw that fully formed little mass, she regretted it immensely. Whether it was purely psychological or something else entirely, she started having frequent nightmares.

"She would dream of a blood-soaked baby crying at her, demanding to know why she didn’t want him and telling her to give him his life back. Tormented beyond her limits, Roxanne finally suffered a mental breakdown."

The actress pointed at the screen. "Look, there are even pictures. From the looks of it, she really has lost her mind."

Clara skimmed through the article, a wave of melancholy washing over her. It was yet another tragic tale of a devoted woman destroyed by a scumbag.

"Roxanne really is pitiful, actually," someone sighed sympathetically. "She thought she had found true love, but he turned out to be a jerk. She unknowingly became the other woman."

"She is pitiful, but I also think aborting a five- or six-month-old fetus just out of anger is quite cruel."

"Exactly. No matter how you look at it, it was a life."

A more timid actress, terrified by the part about the blood-soaked baby from the nightmares, hugged her arms tightly. "Yeah, and the way this article is written is just terrifying. I shudder just thinking about it. Honestly, who’s to say ghosts don’t exist? Maybe the aborted fetus really did come back to seek revenge on her."

Hearing this, Clara involuntarily placed a hand over her own flat stomach, her gaze drifting off into a daze.

"Oh, stop it, you’re making it sound even scarier," someone countered. "But I don’t think aborting the baby was entirely her fault. Think about it—the man she was with was a scumbag, and if the child had been born, he would have had to bear the stigma of being illegitimate. So, getting rid of it wasn’t necessarily an irresponsible act against life!"

"True, whether to get an abortion or not depends on the circumstances. In Roxanne’s case, it’s somewhat understandable.

"But if someone is married, living a happy and stable life, and decides to abort their baby for some flimsy excuse—that would be truly unforgivable.

"Don’t you agree, Clara?"

The casual question startled Clara. She quickly snatched her hand away from her stomach, returned the phone to the actress, and nodded absentmindedly in response.

"Clara, are you okay? You seem a bit distracted," the actress asked with concern as she took her phone back, noticing Clara’s strange demeanor.

"...Oh, it’s nothing. I just think it’s such a shame about Roxanne," Clara replied, hastily coming up with an excuse to deflect the attention.

Just then, the stylist pushed the door open, providing the perfect interruption. Clara walked over to get her hair and makeup done.

Sitting in the chair while the stylist worked on her hair, Clara stared vacantly at her reflection in the mirror, her hand stealthily creeping back down to rest over her stomach.

Her baby might only be a little over a month along and not yet fully formed, but it was still a tiny life. If she aborted it, wouldn’t she be depriving it of the chance to come into this world?

If she got rid of it, wouldn’t she be committing a sin? Would the baby be resentful? Would it also come crying into her dreams to voice its grievances?

Suddenly, a crisp DING from her phone made Clara jolt, snapping her back to reality.

She looked around frantically and in a daze, unsure of where she had put it. It wasn’t until the stylist behind her spoke up—"Clara, isn’t your phone right there on the table?"—that she finally spotted it on the vanity in front of her.

"Oh," she murmured softly. She reached out and grabbed her phone, seeing a WeChat reply from Rhys Ryston: "Yeah, I don’t really want to bother with him either. But he got injured because he was saving me, so it wouldn’t look good if I just left him alone. I guess I’ll just have to reluctantly take care of him."

Rhys’s explanation felt incredibly deliberate. Under normal circumstances, Clara would have definitely teased her about it and used the opportunity to play matchmaker between Rhys and River Sterling.

But right now, she wasn’t in the mood.

She tapped on the screen for a long time, typing and deleting repeatedly, before finally sending a single line back: "Oh, okay. Take good care of Brother Sterling."

After sending the message, Clara unconsciously opened her contacts and scrolled until she found the hospital’s phone number. She stared at it for a long while.

"Clara, are you ready for makeup?" the makeup artist asked, standing in front of her.

Clara hurriedly looked up and nodded. "Yes, I am." As she spoke, she locked her phone screen and placed it back onto the table.

That night, Clara was fast asleep in bed. Suddenly, the faint, low cries of a baby reached her ears, rousing her from her slumber. The sound drew closer and closer, becoming increasingly distinct.

"Mommy, why don’t you want me? I’m not an illegitimate child, so why don’t you want me? I’m the symbol of your and Daddy’s love, so why don’t you want me? Why? Mommy, I didn’t even get a chance to see the outside world before you aborted me. Why are you so cruel?

"Mommy, it’s so dark and cold where I am right now. I’m so scared! Mommy, take me away, take me away..."

Clara’s eyes snapped open, only to see a tiny, blood-soaked baby hovering on the ceiling above her. Its large, dark eyes were filled with bitter resentment and pure hatred as it suddenly dive-bombed straight toward her...