"Open the door."
A strange voice that sounded like a man overlapped with Primrose's voice from outside the room.
Edmund stood there like a statue, and for some reason, his brain couldn't think clearly. His wife's voice gradually became faint.
"If you want to know the truth, you have to open the door."
The voice was soft, almost gentle, like silk brushing against his mind. He could feel that his wolf was trying to drive that voice away, but after a while, even his wolf became dormant.
"What truth?" he asked. His lips moved on their own.
"The truth of your wife's death."
"She didn't die because of you, but because of her own choice."
"She chose to die. She just wanted to make you feel guilty."
"That woman is a liar."
"That woman is as poisonous as a serpent. Don't trust her words, or you will suffer forever."
"I don't believe you," Edmund said after trying his best to regain full control of his consciousness. "I know my wife. She's nothing like what you're saying."
