Chapter 391 She Can't Be Dead
Jarod's mind went blank, leaving only that graceful figure.
Before Peter could finish speaking, Jarod broke free from Peter's arm, opened the car door, and strode towards the small figure across the street.
'Joyce.
'Joyce.' Jarod thought to himself.
Jarod's heart pounded, and the blood in his veins surged faster.
He chanted Joyce's name over and over in his mind.
He was racing against time, pushing himself to catch that fleeting, indistinct shape.
But by the time he reached the spot, the figure had vanished.
Gone without a trace, as if it had been a fleeting mirage.
Jarod felt his strength drain away in an instant.
The hope that had suddenly risen was cruelly dashed by reality.
Peter caught up to him, grabbed his arm, and panted. "Where is she? Did you see her? Was it Joyce?"
Jarod's lips trembled, barely able to form the words, "Search."
His voice was hoarse and broken, like a damaged flute.
"This street, this area—search everywhere.
"I need to find her."
Jarod clenched his fists, the muscles and veins in his arms bulging against his shirt sleeves. "She's not dead.
"She can't be dead," Jarod spoke each word clearly and forcefully, sounding extremely obsessive.
Peter wasn't as optimistic and even regretted his earlier impulsiveness.
Joyce's death had been confirmed with DNA testing—there was no doubt she was gone.
Peter felt a pang of guilt for his shock; it was just a familiar figure, not Joyce herself.
Now, this delusion could turn Jarod into a wreck when the truth finally emerged.
Peter worried about how Jarod would cope when the real facts came to light.
"No need for the clinic anymore," Jarod said, standing tall and straight, his legs long and perfectly proportioned, "We need to search right now."
He turned and walked away briskly.
"It must be her. It must be." His voice was soft and low, yet tinged with uncertain fear.
It was unclear whether he was trying to convince Peter or himself.
Peter's unease grew, and he even felt that Jarod's current state was like the last glimmer of light in a dying person.
In the Lawrence Group, Sebastian received a phone call.
The caller was someone he had placed in the Lawrence House.
He put down his pen, tapped the desk, and answered the call.
"Mr. Lawrence," the person on the other end said cautiously, "Mrs. Lawrence just had a conversation with Jarod for about seven or eight minutes."
"What did they talk about?" Sebastian's tone was unreadable.
"I was too far away to hear clearly, but it seemed to be about investigating something," The person said.
Sebastian picked up his pen and twirled it between his fingers. Hearing this, he paused, gripping the pen tightly, his fingers turning white.
"Got it, keep an eye on them." He narrowed his eyes dangerously.
After hanging up, Sebastian leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
He didn't doubt Isabella's trust in him; he guessed that Isabella wanted to lighten his workload.
He thought, 'But why did she ask Jarod for help?
'Isabella and Jarod's relationship seems unusual.
'What is Jarod's purpose this time?'
Sebastian dialed an internal number and ordered, "Come here."
Kaine hurried over and stood respectfully in front of the desk. "Mr. Lawrence, what can I do for you?"
Sebastian flipped through some documents without looking up. "I asked you to investigate Jarod before. What has he been up to recently?"
Kaine responded, "Jarod's routine is quite dull. He shuttles between the Lawrence House and the nursing home, occasionally coming by the office. The only person he interacts with, apart from the former Mr. Wilson, is no one else."
"That's it?" Sebastian signed his name with a flick of his pen.
The room fell into tense silence, broken only by the faint scratch of the pen on paper.
"Mr. Lawrence, we've had someone keeping an eye on Jarod. The information should be accurate." Kaine was sweating.
Sebastian's formidable presence was making Kaine visibly nervous.
"He's looking into me, and you can't track him?" Sebastian snapped the pen cap on, tossing the pen onto the desk. He crossed his arms, a lazy yet chilling smile spreading across his face.
Kaine trembled. "Mr. Lawrence, it's my fault..."
"Enough, stop wasting time," Sebastian interrupted, his smile turning into a cold sneer, "He's not one to follow the rules. Keep a close watch, and report any news immediately."
Coincidentally, as soon as he gave the order, Kaine received a message.
"Mr. Lawrence." Kaine looked at the message, his expression tense. "There's a major discovery. Please check your email."
Sebastian raised an eyebrow and operated the mouse.
Several photos appeared on the screen.
The images showed Jarod running with unblemished legs, his usual calm demeanor replaced by a mix of tension and urgency, as if he were chasing someone.
Sebastian wasn't too surprised that Jarod could walk.
Jarod had never been a simple person.
Sebastian had once suspected that his legs had healed but couldn't find any evidence.
He thought, 'What is surprising was that if Jarod is pretending, why not keep up the act?
'Jarod hasn't gained anything yet, so why did he suddenly stand up?
'Who made him stand up?
'Joyce?
'Wasn't she dead?
'If it wasn't her, no one else seemed to make sense.'
The only person who could make Jarod lose control was Joyce.
"Investigate further. Find out who else Jarod is looking into besides me," Sebastian said, "Start with Peter."
Kaine received the task and left.
Sebastian stared into space for a while, then chuckled as if he had understood some hidden truth.
He picked up the photo frame from his desk and traced Isabella's upturned lips with his finger. His gaze was intense as he focused on her clear, innocent eyes.
The possessiveness in his eyes grew wildly.
He was determined not to let anyone disrupt the life he shared with her.
Sebastian put down the photo frame and stood by the window.
The Lawrence Group building towered into the sky, and from the top floor, the entire Maple Valley was under his gaze.
Everything was under his control.
Including his Isabella.
Sebastian looked down at his ring finger.
He suddenly realized that something was missing from his finger.
It suddenly struck him that something was missing from his hand. Beyond the marriage license, he had not given her anything of real substance to signify their union.
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