Chapter 462 Depression?
In the stillness before dawn, within the sterile confines of the hospital, Sarah slipped like a wraith into Brady's room.
The sight of her brother, lying motionless on the hospital bed, sent a sharp pang of pain through her heart. She found herself grappling with the mystery of his fall, struggling to comprehend the events that had led to this moment.
Just when everything seemed to be falling into place, life had thrown them a curveball. She and Antonio had mended their relationship, and Brady had finally overcome his troubled past to return home. So why, she wondered, had this happened?
Tears welled up in Sarah's eyes, distorting her vision. Yet, amid the despair, a glimmer of hope remained. Brady was still clinging to life, still with a chance of waking up. That hope was the lifeline that kept Sarah afloat in this sea of uncertainty. She knew that if circumstances were any different, she wouldn't have been able to maintain her composure.
She held onto the belief that comatose patients could wake up. Sarah clung to the hope that one day, Brady would open his eyes and call her name again.
"Why are you dressed so lightly, Sarah?" Antonio's voice broke the silence. He had awoken to find Sarah missing from their bed, and he knew instinctively where she would be.
Following her to Brady's room, he draped his jacket over her, enveloping her in a gentle embrace. His voice was soft as he suggested, "Let's have some breakfast first. You hardly ate anything yesterday. If Brady knew, he'd be upset with me for not taking care of you."
The sight of Antonio brought forth the tears Sarah had been holding back. They broke through her defenses, carving wet trails down her cheeks. "I just can't eat..." she whispered.
"Sarah, you have to try," Antonio implored, his voice gentle, his eyes filled with a helpless sorrow. He wished he could do anything to coax a smile from her, but with Brady lying motionless, Sarah's heart seemed incapable of feeling even a spark of warmth.
"Please, Sarah," he pleaded, "Have something to eat." He opened the food container he'd brought, reminding her, "The doctor said there's a chance Brady can hear us. If he knew you were skipping meals and crying all the time, how sad do you think that would make him?"
Sarah's gaze was vacant as she looked at Antonio, who tenderly wiped away her tears. "Will you try, for me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
With a reluctant nod, Sarah bit her lip and managed a few bites before her appetite waned, leaving most of the food untouched. Antonio didn't press her. He had brought an assortment of snacks and fruits, determined to ensure she ate something, anything, to keep illness and exhaustion at bay.
In a rare moment of vulnerability, Sarah reached out and hugged Antonio. Under any other circumstance, such a gesture would have pleasantly surprised him. But now, his heart could only ache with empathy. He knew that in these moments, he was Sarah’s pillar of strength.
"Antonio, Brady will pull through, won't he? He'll awaken, and we'll remain together, eternally, right?" Sarah's voice trembled as she nestled her face into Antonio's chest, seeking solace in the warmth of his embrace. Her tears flowed unceasingly, their frequency unnoticed in the midst of her despair.
With the patience of a saint, Antonio tenderly stroked Sarah's hair, drawing her closer into his comforting hold. "Yes, he will be alright. Once he's had ample rest, he'll open his eyes, and we'll all be together, never to be separated again," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.
Meanwhile, the police had been diligently reconstructing Brady's activities in the week leading up to the incident. His life was marked by a predictable routine; it was either the sanctuary of home or the lively bustle of the zoo. In his leisure time, he dedicated himself to volunteering at the zoo, while the remainder of his days were spent in the comfort of his home.
The documents revealed that four days prior to the accident, Brady had visited the hospital to collect medication for the flu. He had spent the subsequent two days confined to his home, not venturing elsewhere. On the fateful day of the accident, Brady had driven to the customs office to retrieve a package, then, for reasons unknown, had found his way to the hospital, where the fall had taken place.
The police relayed their findings to Sarah, "Ms. Miller, according to the customs records, Mr. Miller had ordered a bracelet from overseas. Is there anything significant about this bracelet?"
Sarah steadied her emotions, shaking her head slightly in response. "It's not of any particular importance—just a replica of a bracelet I lost as a child. He stumbled upon it during his travels and purchased it, intending to return it to me."
Neither Sarah nor Brady could have ever fathomed that this bracelet could be the very one from her childhood. Such coincidences were rare in reality.
The police made their routine notes, reciting the familiar script to Sarah. "Ms. Miller, please accept our deepest condolences. We've examined all the evidence and virtually ruled out any foul play. If it wasn't suicide, it must have been an unfortunate accident."
Sarah couldn't accept their conclusion. "No... no, someone harmed him, Officer, please believe me..."
"Ms. Miller," the officer responded, "we require evidence to substantiate claims of this nature. We've scoured every location— the rooftop, the customs office, his route to the hospital. He didn't encounter anyone; there's no suspect."
Sarah's frustration boiled over, "But you just said—he'd just retrieved the bracelet for me, and he hadn't even seen me yet. How could he suddenly decide to end his own life?! He wasn't mentally ill!!"
It was then that Sarah noticed a peculiar expression cross the officer's face. "Ms. Miller, Mr. Miller was, after all, battling depression, which can alter one's thought processes significantly. It's within the realm of possibility..."
She stood there, utterly taken aback. "What are you implying... depression? My brother was suffering from depression?!"
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