In a villa in the suburbs.

Violet was fidgeting all over. She held the phone in her hand, checking the clock from time to time.

Ethan was lying flat on the sofa. His arms were motionless because of the plaster casts. He was just like a disabled person.

He hated Byron so much. ‘Of all the things that wretched man could do, he broke my arms. Now, I can't even play poker or go on my mobile phone.’

Ethan murmured disapprovingly at his anxious mother. "Mom, aren't you worrying a little too much? You were unshakeable like a mountain while you were in the police station. Why are you so scared now that you've been released?"

"What do you know? I'm really worried. Rosalie's wretched mother left behind evidence of our crimes in her heirloom."

Violet gave her son a vicious look.

Ethan was slightly startled, but then said coldly, "What evidence? What does it have to do with me?! I don't remember whether I was involved or not. You poisoned Rosalie's mother yourself."

Violet listened to how