This meant she couldn’t keep the truth under wraps. Then again, this was probably the worst outcome she could imagine. So, she sat up, looking calm. “Richard’s mother’s the one who made Bart end up like this. He was ambushed by someone on his way home one day—they came in a truck and were armed. It was too late when I received Bart’s signal for help. They’d pressed him to the ground, covered in blood. I brought many men with me, and the attackers knew they couldn’t take Bart away before my eyes. So, they administered him some sort of drug as I tried to get to him.” She could barely get the words out at this point, and her chest heaved.

She gritted her teeth, using so much force that it made the veins in her neck bulge. She forced out, “Bart’s never been the same since. Every night, he becomes like this, but he returns to normal every morning. I’ve spent an astronomical sum getting people to research the drug, but nothing’s worked so far. Instead, the amount of money I spent has upset