Chapter 211: Why Should I Be Sad
No, I couldn't believe in such coincidences.
As I grabbed my car keys, ready to leave, Christopher caught my wrist. "Where are you going? I'll take you."
I shot back, "Somewhere with a signal."
Before heading out, I leveled a stare at him. "What happened with that live stream this afternoon? Why can't I find any replay records online?"
Christopher's eyes flickered. "A lot of live streams don't have replays."
I scoffed, "Impossible."
Previously, when Jerry had attended a public event, many girls edited and rewatched the video clips. Yet this livestream had vanished as if it had never existed.
Suddenly, a realization struck me, and my fingertips trembled. "Christopher, that live stream was fake, right? Jerry really got into trouble, didn't he?"
"Hope..."
"Don't call me, answer me!" I stepped back, my voice rising. "Why lie to me? Why didn't you tell me if something happened to him? Why create a fake livestream to deceive me?"
Christopher tried hard to soothe me. "I didn't mean to lie to you. Hope, this matter needs more time. Give me some time, and I promise I'll tell you the truth as soon as possible."
"I just want to know what happened!" I shouted, struggling to stay calm. Almost pleading, I looked at him. "Christopher, please. Just tell me what happened!"
Hurt crossed his face as he looked at me, almost in disbelief. "You're willing to beg me for him?"
"Yes, I beg of you.! Are you satisfied now?"
"No!" he responded coldly, shoving me back into the room. "Before we get the divorce the day after tomorrow, you're not going anywhere."
With that, he slammed the door shut.
I pounded on the door. "Christopher! Let me out!"
No response.
Rushing to the window, I saw the bodyguards in the yard. I extended my phone outside, desperate for a signal.
A message came through.
I glanced at it quickly, feeling as if I had been struck by lightning, my vision darkening.
Cecil: [Hope, the Hammer Group's lab exploded.]
Frantically, I called Cecil back. He answered, "Hope, your phone finally has a signal? I kept calling you, but it was out of service. I knew something was wrong."
Clutching the phone tightly, my voice came out hoarse. "Cecil, is it true? Were there any casualties?"
Deep down, I already knew the answer. Otherwise, Elissa wouldn't have reacted the way she did this afternoon. Christopher wouldn't have gone to such lengths to keep it from me.
"Yes, it happened last night, but the news was quickly suppressed by the RF Group," Cecil confirmed, hesitatingly adding, "There were casualties."
"How many people?" I asked, dread filling my voice.
"It was nighttime," Cecil said softly, "only Jerry and his team were in the lab."
My fingertips trembled violently. I tried to speak, but my throat felt blocked.
After a long time, I managed to mumble, "What about Jerry? How is he?"
"He..." Cecil seemed reluctant to speak, "After the explosion, the police rushed over, but they still haven't found Jerry. The police might declare him dead."
"Dead?" I murmured in disbelief, unable to process the words.
Jerry dead? That was impossible. He couldn't just die like that!
Cecil tried to console me, "Hope, calm down. I..."
Before he could finish, the phone slipped from my hand. Trembling uncontrollably, I stood by the window for a long time, watching as Christopher drove out of the manor in a Rolls-Royce.
After another twenty minutes, I opened the bedside drawer, took out a fruit knife, and cut my wrist. The blood was warm and glaring, but not deep enough to be fatal. Barefoot, I twisted the door open and went downstairs. Barry, one of the household staff, intercepted me. "Mrs. Valence, Christopher instructed—"
He stopped mid-sentence, shocked by the trail of blood.
"Barry, I don't want to cause any trouble for you." My voice was indifferent to the pain as I grabbed my car keys. "Let me out, or Christopher will only find my corpse when he returns."
Barry looked absolutely gutted, following me to the car and hurriedly opening the door for me. "Why do this? Christopher is doing this for your own good."
I got in and laughed bitterly. "For my own good? It seems you've forgotten how we got to this point."
The car sped down the road.
I sped down the road, pulling over briefly to bandage my wrist with gauze from my bag. Then, I continued toward Maple Valley, my mind fixated on one thought: Jerry wasn’t dead.
The accident had happened at the experimental base, so I would go there to find him. He’d still be there, lazily leaning somewhere, raising an eyebrow at me, saying, "Hope, you have a bit of a conscience, coming to find me?"
Yes, it must be like that.
Crossing a bridge over the lake, a large truck suddenly appeared, speeding toward me in the wrong lane. I could have swerved right to survive, but for some reason, I chose to turn left, driving straight into the lake.
In early March, the icy lake water rushed in. The cold was bone-chilling, and breathing became increasingly difficult.
When I woke up again, I was in a hospital. I hadn’t died. The wound on my wrist was neatly rebandaged.
Cecil stood up abruptly, letting out a sigh of relief. "Hope, you're awake?"
"Cecil." My throat felt like it was cut by blades, making speaking painful. "Why are you here?"
Cecil frowned. "My car was following you the whole time. Don't worry, this place is safe. If you don't want to be found, no one can trace you."
I nodded. "Thank you."
"I didn't understand at first. In that situation, most people would instinctively turn right to survive, but why did you turn left?" He picked up a pack of antidepressants from the bedside table, his voice choking. "When this fell out of your clothes, I understood. When did this start?"
I brushed it off, swallowing. "These are Elissa's. What about Jerry? Did the police find him?"
Cecil looked at me, his expression laden with sorrow. "No. Hope, don't be too sad."
I asked back, "Why should I be sad? The police haven't declared him dead. Why should I be sad?"
"Look at this." He reluctantly handed me his phone.
I had been unconscious for two days and a night.
And this morning, the police had announced Jerry's death.
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