Chapter 280 Car Accident
The driver in the front seat got crushed backward, blood everywhere in the back seat.
Harper lay alone in a pool of blood, her forehead pierced by shattered glass, her face covered in blood, and her mind buzzing.
The car accident knocked down the guardrail, making the bridge impassable.
Meanwhile, inside the black limo, Chloe suddenly had contractions and started bleeding.
"Francis, I'm having contractions. It hurts so much," Chloe groaned.
Francis frowned and called the car ahead, "Stop."
He got out, picked up Chloe, and walked across the bridge.
The front of the business car burst into flames.
Harper looked out the window in pain and helplessness, spotting Francis.
"Francis!" Harper wanted to call out but couldn't make a sound, even opening her mouth was hard.
She struggled to extend a bloodied hand to the window, silently pleading.
"Francis, save our child." But she watched helplessly as Francis walked away with Chloe, getting farther away.
In utter despair, Harper slowly closed her eyes.
At that moment, sirens sounded.
Harper saw hope and struggled to open her eyes.
Before the rescue vehicle could stop, there was a loud bang, and the car, engulfed in flames, plunged into the river.
Icy water poured in, and tears streamed down Harper's cheeks.
If she hadn't tried to escape, she wouldn't have had the accident.
She regretted it so much; if she could do it over, she would never fall in love with him again.
A faint movement came from her abdomen, and Harper felt it.
The first fetal movement was like the baby cheering for mommy.
'Baby, I'm sorry! Mommy is so useless that you have to leave with mommy,' she thought, feeling her heart tightened as she floated in the water.
Hospital.
After hearing Chloe was fine, Francis didn't even go in to see her and turned to leave.
At that moment, Victor caught up, looking uneasy. "Mr. Getty, Mrs. Getty is missing."
Francis's pupils contracted sharply, "What?"
Victor said, "The bodyguard responsible for following Mrs. Getty just called, saying she went to the photo studio to pick up photos this afternoon and then disappeared."
Francis's face changed dramatically, "Which photo studio?"
"The one you went to this afternoon," Victor quickly answered.
Francis's heart sank.
The same photo studio made him feel very uneasy.
"Did you pull up the surveillance footage?" he asked.
"We did." Victor took out his phone and handed it to Francis, cautiously saying, "Mrs. Getty seemed prepared to leave. She changed her outfit to the one you asked us to look for this afternoon."
Victor pulled up the vehicles that had left before and after Harper appeared. Besides their two cars, there was only one black business car left.
On the TV in the hospital corridor, the host was reporting.
"At 2 p.m. today, a serious car accident occurred on the newly built bridge. The driver died on the spot, and the other person is missing."
Francis felt like a piece of his heart had been ripped out, leaving a bloody void, yet he couldn't feel the pain.
"Mr. Getty," Victor called several times, but Francis didn't respond.
Time seemed to stand still.
In the silence, even breathing felt like a crime.
Victor watched as Francis's towering figure collapsed in front of him.
"Mr. Getty!" Victor called out again.
Three days later.
Francis finally woke up.
Seeing this, Abigail hurriedly asked, "Francis, how do you feel? Any discomfort?"
Francis's face was blank, and he immediately asked, "Where's Harper?"
Abigail was stunned, speechless for a moment.
Francis asked again, "Mom, have you seen Harper?"
"Francis, I heard from Victor about Harper. It's really unfortunate," Abigail said heavily.
"I asked you where she is," Francis stubbornly repeated.
Abigail hesitated, then said heartlessly, "It's been three days, and we haven't found her. She must have drifted away. But don't worry. Since Harper had no family, I'll arrange the funeral."
Abigail was most afraid that Francis would give up on life, so she had people watching him closely.
Francis's face was as pale as a sheet.
Suddenly, he threw off the covers and got out of bed.
Abigail hurriedly stopped him. "Francis, where are you going?"
"To find her," Francis said, expressionless.
"She's already dead; where are you going to find her?" Abigail said angrily.
"She's missing," Francis corrected, "She's just missing."
Abigail couldn't stop him.
Francis searched the river for seven days and nights, barely sleeping.
Seven days later, Abigail had him tied up and brought back home by boat.
Francis, who always cared about his appearance, now had sunken eyes, stubble, and a gaunt frame.
Abigail held him and cried, "Francis, don't do this. You are scaring me."
"And I can't live without her," Francis said painfully, "Mom, can I trade my life for hers?"
Abigail tightly grasped Francis's arm and cried, "Francis, I can't live without you."
Francis swayed and collapsed to the ground.
Abigail panicked and cried out, "Doctor! Call the doctor."
Basement.
Quinn had been locked here for half a month.
During this time, the villa's servants would open the door at regular intervals and feed her like a dog.
No one provided her with any medical treatment.
They seemed to intentionally let the burns on her face and body worsen.
The huge blisters were itchy and painful, and Quinn couldn't help but scratch them.
The pus flowed into her eyes, and for many days, she couldn't open them.
That day, the door finally opened again.
She heard the stomp of leather shoes stepping closer, one step at a time.
Quinn seemed to hear hope and crawled towards the sound. "Robert, Robert, is that you?"
The leather shoes stopped in front of her. "Yes, it's me."
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
