Laurence tensed up, his fingers pale from straining. He sat rooted to the spot in the deafening silence. Since there was no response from Laurence, the police officer thought he had hung up. He checked, "Mr. Scott, are you still there?" The man's expression was hidden in the shadows. Clenching his phone, Laurence squeezed the air out of his lungs to talk. The catch in his throat made him struggle to speak. He forced, "I'm listening." Laurence's voice was already hoarse, but now it sounded like nails on a chalkboard as he answered the police officer's question lifelessly. Laurence blinked and found his face wet with tears. He asked, "Are you sure? Did you get the wrong person?" Could this be a case of mistaken identity? The police understood emotions could be running high in the family. He replied, "We believe Ms. Jenner's car rolled off the cliff, and the leaking gas tank caused an explosion. My colleague found her phone and jacket at the scene, which led us to her possible ident
"No." Laurence recalled the missed call. By the time he’d seen it and returned the call, there was no answer on the other line. He calmly swallowed the blood in his mouth, his bloodshot eyes despairing. He choked as he stifled a sob, "I didn't take the call. I was in a meeting." The harsh white light above cast a clinical pallor over the man's face.The police officer stared into Laurence's bloodshot eyes as if he could see the blood coursing through his veins. "Mr. Scott, do you feel okay? You can take a break in the lounge if you need to."Laurence pursed his lips into a straight line. "I'm fine." He had a lot of questions, but his mind was racing so fast that it felt like it was going to burst. His temples throbbed and pounded. How could she be fine one moment and gone the next? Why would she go to that place? It was remote, far away, and dangerous. It was like a nightmare he could not wake up from. Laurence was dragged into the deep, dark sea, his lungs burning as the water ent
The fight was quickly broken up since they were in a police station. Laurence was not one to take a hit lying down. He wiped away the blood from his lips and scoffed, then emotionlessly got up in Jason's face and landed a punch on him. Both men ended up with a battered face, neither of them with the upper hand. Jason gave Laurence the stink eye, not hiding the bloodthirst in his eyes. He strode to the police officer, his jaw tense, and said something before being led to the evidence room. Laurence could taste the blood in his mouth. The metallic aftertaste coursed through his esophagus. His presence was no longer needed at the station as the police officer had questioned him. Laurence refused to believe that Zoey was gone forever.The burnt car was still dangling halfway down the cliff. Due to limited resources, the wreckage had not been recovered. There was no surveillance in the warehouse or the mountain area, so there was no evidence of a third party's involvement. This evide
The two individuals talking behind Laurence's back felt a chill down their spine. The pair clammed up and looked behind them, only to meet a pair of cold eyes. They shuddered, and words couldn’t describe the looks on their faces. Laurence had overheard the duo gossiping about him. The tension was excruciating. Despite the cringe, they were socially inept enough to say hello to Laurence as if nothing ever happened. They behaved courteously, respectfully, and reverently. "Mr. Scott." Laurence drew close, his leather shoes quiet on the corridor carpet. The man's complexion under the harsh light was pasty. His dark eyes fixated on the women as he echoed their words in a chilling, flat tone, "Am I a madman?" The pair had thought they would get away with it since they were in a public space. At the very least, Laurence wouldn't give them a hard time about it. They were wrong. At a loss for what to do, the individuals stumbled for words before coughing out an apology. It only proved t
Hearing this, Mrs. Scott paused for a moment. She thought when her son had said “no longer here” he’d meant Zoey was no longer in Northwell. She didn’t automatically think the worst.Seeing Laurence in a trance, Mrs. Scott felt a little emotional. "You ought to calm down. All your life, you've hardly done anything out of the ordinary. Running around like a ..." She paused, stopping herself before saying the word "lunatic"—it wasn't the most pleasant thing to say. She continued, "... headless chicken looking for someone isn’t nice to see. You're only going to seem mentally unstable; it'd probably scare Zoey."As she spoke, her voice gradually trailed off. The whites of the man's eyes were streaked with discernible blood vessels, something she hadn't seen in her son in many, many years. He appeared fragile, as if he was on the verge of shattering. His gaze was so hollow and so helpless. His crimson eyes looked like they could shed tears of blood at any moment.It didn't seem like he w
Laurence took time off to visit Sarah at the hospital. Her gunshot wound hadn't healed. She lay in the hospital bed, delicate and pitiful. He didn't even bother sitting down and stood a few feet from her bed as he watched her calmly. This bullet had almost cost her her life. She had only managed to send in one of Jason's loyal underlings; only his fingerprints were found on the gun.Laurence continued staring at her, struggling to put into words what remained of his feelings for her. The affection he’d felt for her for years had gradually worn away. There ultimately came a day when he yearned to disregard the vows he had once made. He was no longer willing to protect her unconditionally. He no longer reminisced about the days they had spent depending on each other.Every time she went too far and did something incomprehensible, he had numbed himself with memories of the past every time she came to him and pleaded with tears in her eyes. He had always looked the other way and gotten
Letters sent from prison were required to go through a review process. In his letter, Robert only mentioned the items of utmost importance, urging Laurence to visit him in jail for a face-to-face chat.Laurence scanned the entirety of the letter to check the handwriting. It didn't seem forged. What could Robert have to tell him so desperately? He placed the letter aside lazily and instructed his assistant to book him a flight to Southgrove in three days. He was curious about what Robert had to say.Although it was a weekend, Laurence had already made an appointment with a psychiatrist. He knew he wasn't himself. Even though he felt perfectly normal, he knew his uncontrollable, irrational actions time and time again were trying to tell him otherwise. He was not acting normally—or at least not as much as he thought. Mental ill health often manifests in the form of physical actions.Laurence wasn't resistant to seeing a psychiatrist. It was just that he didn't feel that psychological t
Robert was so overwhelmed with emotion that he couldn't control himself. His facial expression hadn't changed much, but there were hints of an untamed animal within him starting to break free. He inhaled deeply to calm himself down. He had to speak normally, at least. Otherwise, Laurence might not believe a word he had to say.Laurence looked at the man before him, who looked like he had aged a decade during his time in prison. It appeared he wasn't doing quite well. Laurence's patience was running low, and he looked at Robert, "If you have something to tell me, spit it out. You're free to say anything you wish."A cunning glint flashed in Robert's eyes. After a short silence, he changed his mind and laid out his conditions, "I have a son who is now homeless. If you promise to care for my son and his mother, I will give you the information you need." Confidence filled his core as he waited for Laurence to accept such terms.Unexpectedly, the man before him pulled a nonchalant smile.