Chapter 202 Is She Dead?
At the Night Harbor Bar, Magnus sat in a booth, surrounded by a lineup of empty glasses. By the tenth drink, his throat burned with a sharp, fiery pain.
Paul, who had been holding back, finally spoke up, "Mr. Blackwood, your arm wound hasn't healed. Drinking this much isn't good for you."
Magnus replied coldly, "Are you drinking or not?"
Paul stammered, "I... I'm not. I have to drive you later."
Plus, if Paul went home drunk, his wife would be furious.
But he didn't dare say that. Magnus didn't have a wife anymore; Juniper was leaving for Southern City in the morning.
Magnus said, "If you're not drinking, then shut up."
Paul replied, "...Yes, sir."
Magnus wanted to get drunk, but the more he tried, the clearer his mind seemed to get. It was as if the harder he tried to numb himself, the more painfully aware he became.
He downed another drink, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. His stomach felt like it was on fire, but only this near-masochistic drinking could ease his heartache.
One drink after another, he lost track of how many he'd had.
Paul's voice broke through his fog. "Mr. Blackwood, that's the eighteenth drink. With your history of gastric bleeding, if you keep this up…"
He might end up in the emergency room.
Magnus held his glass and gave a self-mocking smile. "Do you think if I were dying, Juniper would still leave?"
Paul was stunned. He hadn't expected Magnus to gamble with his life.
Paul said, "If something happened to you, Ms. Beaumont would be heartbroken. Not just her, Jenny would be sad too."
Yes. The old Magnus would have used his life to keep Juniper, even force her to stay.
But now, he couldn't bear to make Juniper sad again.
Magnus said, "You know, my existence now is like a deep sea to Juniper."
She had jumped into the sea, almost drowned, and couldn't love the sea anymore. She'd developed a phobia of it.
Now, she had the same fear of Magnus. Even touching her was a luxury.
In his arms, she trembled, remembering past traumas.
If she just didn't love him anymore, he could find ways to make her fall in love again.
But now, he had no way.
To Juniper, he was the deep sea she wanted to escape from.
Paul asked, "Mr. Blackwood, are you really not planning to see Ms. Beaumont off tomorrow? What if she sees you and changes her mind?"
Magnus gave a wry smile. "I can't bear for her to change her mind, nor can I bear for her to stay."
Staying with him would be torment for Juniper.
Outside, it started raining heavily.
Paul said, "Mr. Blackwood, wait here. I'll bring the car around."
Magnus nodded. "Okay."
After Paul left, Magnus, fueled by alcohol, stepped into the rain.
The heavy rain soaked him to the bone in no time.
Rainwater streamed down his stern face, large droplets hammering against him.
He didn't flinch or try to shield himself. The rain soaked through the bandage on his injured arm, seeping into the wound like salt in an open cut, making it throb with pain.
Magnus stood in the rain, his face lowered, looking gloomy and numb.
Seven years. He had suppressed his emotions for seven years, and tonight he needed an outlet, even if it was this silent self-torture.
When Paul drove up, he saw Magnus standing in the rain.
His eyes widened. He quickly grabbed an umbrella and got out of the car. "Mr. Blackwood, your arm wound hasn't healed. Getting wet will infect it! Get in the car!"
The black umbrella shielded Magnus from the rain, but he stood there, unmoved. "Even seven years ago, when she pointed me out in court, I didn't think I'd lose her. I thought if I hated enough, she'd be waiting when I turned back."
"Maybe Ms. Beaumont just needs time. Once she's had a chance to think things through, she might come around…"
Magnus choked on his bitterness. "Paul, I've really lost her now."
"Mr. Blackwood, I think Ms. Beaumont still loves you," Paul tried to comfort him.
But Magnus was painfully clear-headed. He lowered his eyes, his gaze heavy. "Love is useless."
She had to be willing to love him for it to matter.
If it took a hundred steps to reach her, as long as she took one step, even half a step, he would walk the rest of the way.
But without that half step, even if Magnus walked the entire distance, it would still be zero.
In the rainy night, a white Mercedes headed towards Royal View.
Sinclair's phone rang. She glanced at it; it was Michael.
After hesitating, she answered, "Hello, Michael?"
Michael asked, "I'm home. Where are you? The car isn't in the driveway."
In the middle of the night, where had she gone?
Sinclair was torn about whether to tell him the truth because Michael might not believe her.
Who would believe their sister was a murderer?
Sinclair lied. "I got hungry and remembered a place nearby with great pasta. I drove out."
Michael, being considerate, said gently, "Why didn't you tell me? Next time, let me bring it back for you. No need to go out in the middle of the night."
Sinclair agreed. "Okay, I'll hang up now. I'll be back soon."
As soon as she ended the call, was about to make a turn, when a speeding truck came at them like a maniac!
Sinclair's eyes widened in alarm. She frantically slammed on the brakes!
The tires screeched against the ground with a sharp, piercing sound!
But it was too late. The car window shattered, glass cutting Sinclair's skin, and a sharp, intense pain shot through her body!
The two vehicles collided! A large truck against a small car!
The white Mercedes was nearly knocked off the road!
Inside the car, due to the massive inertia, Sinclair was sent crashing into the steering wheel. Warm blood dripped from her forehead as she felt a tearing pain all over.
It was excruciating.
Sinclair tried to lift her body and open her eyes, but it was too heavy; she couldn't get up.
Her body felt shattered! Vaguely, a sharp pain in her abdomen was intensifying!
A warm sensation was flowing from her legs... The baby...
Sinclair lay there, barely conscious, unable to even call for help, as darkness completely overtook her.
Not far away, in a red BMW.
Patricia gripped the steering wheel tightly, her whole body trembling.
Her phone rang. The caller ID showed "Big Truck."
The "Big Truck" said, "I've done what you asked. When will you transfer the money?"
Patricia said, "First thing in the morning!"
The "Big Truck" said, "Do it now! I can't wait until morning!"
Patricia lowered her voice, gritting her teeth. "Have you been drinking?"
The "Big Truck" said, "I did everything you asked!"
She said each word slowly, "Remember, this is just a drunk driving accident!"
The "Big Truck" said, "You promised me two hundred thousand dollars, not a dollar less! I need that money for my son's treatment!"
Patricia said, "I know! I'll transfer it right away! Now get out and check if she's dead."
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