"Isn't Isabella Lindsey dead?"
Bertha Marley was once again shocked, "I killed her with my own hands, the knife pierced her heart, could it be false?"
"On the surface, there seems to be no problem."
Vermes Marley took a sip of snow lotus tea, speaking with deep concern, "I just went to Henry's place, just to test if Isabella Lindsey is truly dead."
"And the result?" Bertha Marley was extremely concerned.
"He was too drunk, I couldn't get anything out of him." Vermes Marley felt that his son was not easy to deal with.
"Dad, since you're worried Isabella Lindsey isn't dead, why don't we go directly and pry open her ice coffin, and dismember her body!" Bertha Marley suggested cleverly yet viciously, "No matter what, we must ensure Isabella Lindsey is dead!"
"Not now."
Vermes Marley narrowed his emerald blue eyes, speaking coldly and calculatingly, "I've set a trap around Isabella Lindsey's grave. Once Julian Johnsons approaches, he won't escape."
