Chapter 497 News About Yvette
In the spacious and cozy living room, Albert sat on the soft couch, reading with BoBo and CiCi.
The house was comfortably warm, the temperature just right, and everything seemed perfect.
But BoBo and CiCi sat on the carpet, looking glum.
Albert understood why the kids were feeling down, but he felt powerless to help.
Since Yvette's disappearance, the phrase "helpless" had become his constant companion—a bitter reminder of his limitations.
Albert picked up a picture book from the children's collection and, instead of sitting high on the couch, joined them on the carpet. "I've always loved this story. Would you like to hear it?"
The children nodded with lackluster enthusiasm, unwilling to disappoint their father despite their low spirits.
As Albert's rich voice brought the tale to life, describing a brave knight's quest to rescue a princess from a fearsome dragon, the children gradually became absorbed in the adventure. Their faces brightened with curiosity and excitement, especially when Albert paused at crucial moments to let them predict what might happen next.
"Will the knight save the princess?" he asked, his voice deliberately suspenseful.
"Yes! Knights are super strong!" CiCi exclaimed, bouncing slightly with renewed energy.
BoBo clenched his small fists determinedly. "He will. He has to."
Watching life return to their faces, Albert felt some of the tension in his chest ease. He continued the story with theatrical flair, describing how the knight battled through thorns and flames to reach the captive princess.
When the tale concluded with the princess's rescue, CiCi clapped her hands in delight while BoBo gazed at Albert with reddened eyes, his perceptive nature having caught the deeper meaning behind his father's choice of story.
"Will you save the princess too?" BoBo whispered, his voice barely audible.
Albert's throat tightened as he met his son's earnest gaze. "That's what knights do," he replied softly, the words serving as both comfort and personal vow. "Very soon, the knight will bring the princess home. Don't worry, okay?"
BoBo ducked his head, hiding the tears that threatened to fall. "Okay."
Albert's phone buzzed against his leg—Vincent's name flashing on the screen. Assuming it was business-related, he answered without hesitation. "What is it?"
"Mr. Valdemar, are you at home?" Vincent's voice carried an unusual strain. "I've sent a car for you. We need you to come to the police station immediately."
The gravity in Vincent's tone sent ice through Albert's veins. Vincent never spoke to him with such careful restraint unless something was terribly wrong.
"I'll be right there," Albert managed, his voice steady despite the dread pooling in his stomach.
As he rose to leave, small fingers caught his sleeve. BoBo looked up at him with tear-bright eyes. "Are you going to save the princess now?"
Albert's jaw clenched as he struggled for composure. "Stay home and wait for me, alright?"
Even before Vincent spoke, Albert knew. The assistant's inability to meet his eyes during the car ride confirmed his worst fears.
"Tell me," Albert commanded, his voice rough with suppressed emotion.
Vincent's throat worked visibly. "The police... they need you to identify a body."
The words hit Albert like a physical blow, draining all color from his face. They'd been through false alarms before when Yvette first disappeared, but this felt different. The experts had declared her body vaporized in the explosion—for remains to surface now meant they bore significant resemblance to his wife.
Agony crashed over him in waves, each breath feeling like broken glass in his lungs. He lowered the window, letting the frigid air shock his system back to clarity.
"Only one body?" he asked through gritted teeth.
"Yes. Found near one of the islands we've been investigating."
Albert's mind raced. The janitor had mentioned two patients—a man and a woman. How could only one body surface? Hope and terror warred within him as he lit a cigarette with trembling fingers, the flame dancing in the winter air.
At the police station, each step felt leaden yet urgent—he needed to know, needed this nightmare to end one way or another.
"Do you need me to come in?" Vincent asked, his hand hovering over the door handle.
"No. I'll just look and leave if it's not her."
The morgue was sterile and cold. Albert steeled himself as the sheet was pulled back, revealing remains so badly burned and waterlogged that identification seemed impossible. Even knowing this wasn't Yvette, his heart shattered imagining her enduring such suffering.
"Mr. Valdemar!" The police chief burst through the doors, breathless with urgency. "We just received the DNA results—it's not your wife. I apologize for bringing you here unnecessarily."
Relief flooded through Albert like a dam bursting. She hadn't suffered this fate. She was still out there, still alive.
Outside the station, Albert's steps felt lighter despite the bitter cold. Even the weak winter sun seemed to promise hope.
"Mr. Valdemar!" Vincent approached with barely contained excitement. "There's more good news—we've narrowed down the location. The janitor confirmed it: Clifford and your wife were definitely on that island."
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