Chapter 412 It's Not Him
Frank hesitated, wanting to say something, but when he met Winona's gaze, he caved in. "Alright, I'll get someone on it right away."
The fire raged for a solid forty minutes before it was finally put out. As soon as the plank connecting the two ships was set up, Winona started to cross.
It was super risky to go over like that. The ships swayed with the rhythm of the sea, and every step on the narrow plank made one sway, too. One misstep could send her plummeting into the churning waters below. The fire had burned so long that the seawater around was boiling hot.
Frank grabbed her arm, worried. "The ship's still too hot. Wait a bit longer."
Winona turned her head, her eyes dropping from his face to his hand on her arm. She didn't say a word, but the message in her eyes was unmistakable. Reluctantly, Frank released his grip, offering a faint smile, saying, "Let Rodolfo go with you."
The plank was so shaky, she had to crawl across to keep her balance.
The ship was still smoking. As soon as Winona's feet hit the deck, she couldn't hold on and dropped to her knees.
Rodolfo quickly helped her up. "Miss Sullivan..."
Winona's hand touched the iron deck and instantly blistered from the heat. She didn't cry out, just stood up with Rodolfo's help.
The ship was a burnt-out shell, everything laid bare.
The air was thick with the salty smell of evaporated seawater and the stench of charred remains. The atmosphere was unrelenting in its heat. By now, the sun was up, shining brightly on the sea, making the waves look like blue silk with pearls, really beautiful.
Winona headed to the cabin, where the skeletal framework stood charred and blackened. In the innermost resting area lay a charred corpse, mostly covered, only the feet showing. Judging by the skeleton, it was a man.
Rodolfo instinctively blocked Winona, almost as if to shield her from the gruesome sight. In his view, women were a hassle. Seeing something like this, they'd either scream or faint, making things worse.
The ship was just a hot iron frame now. If Winona fainted, he'd have to carry her. What a pain!
Winona pushed him aside, as she slowly approached the corpse. She moved slowly, breathing heavily, her heart pounding like it was going to jump out of her chest. Her seawater-soaked clothes had almost dried, only to now be drenched in sweat once more, sticking to her body.
Rodolfo grabbed her arm, trying to be polite. "Wait here, I'll check."
Winona shook her head firmly. "I need to see the body myself."
She opened her mouth but no sound came out. After swallowing hard a few times, she finally managed to speak, though her voice was hoarse and rough.
Winona gave a tired smile. "If it's him, he'd want to see me first."
Rodolfo was silent.
He thought of his parents. Though he was young then, he vaguely remembered them always arguing about money. They didn't seem like a couple, more like enemies.
As Winona got closer, the full view of the person emerged. After burning for forty minutes, he was already a charred corpse.
She took one look and turned away, saying, "It's not Zachary."
Rodolfo stared seriously for a while and said in a daze, "How can you be sure it's not Mr. Bailey?"
"The man is too ugly."
The little bit of respect Rodolfo had just gained for her vanished instantly. He shouldn't have had any hope for women. Weren't all charred bodies like this? It was not an art piece.
He quickly caught up with Winona, who was about to leave the cabin.
"It's indeed not Mr. Bailey. Judging by the height ratio, this should be Kyle."
Winona said nothing, walking quickly.
Knowing it wasn't Mr. Bailey, shouldn't she have been overjoyed?
Just as Rodolfo wondered if she hadn't heard him, he heard a scream. Winona was at the edge of the deck, bending over and vomiting.
Frank had already searched the first floor, finding two more bodies.
Frank handed Winona a tissue and a bottle of water. "The bodies are too charred to identify. We'll need the police for DNA testing. The salvage team is already working in the nearby waters. Let Rodolfo stay here. Let's go up, eat, change, and bring some clothes for them too."
Winona glanced at them and said calmly, "Okay."
Frank, who had prepared a lot to say to persuade her, fell silent.
If Winona had broken down crying and screaming, he would have been more at ease. But her being so rational and obedient made him uneasy.
Frank said with concern, "Winona, if you're feeling bad, just cry. Don't hold it in."
"He's fine. Why should I feel bad? Kyle wants money, I'll get it for him. Isn't it just 20,000 pounds of gold? I'll find it," she said, rubbing her fingers hard, the blisters bursting and oozing as she twisted them into a gruesome, bloody mess.
"Once we get ashore, I'll call Rebecca and ask her to get me more freelance work. Sophie mentioned some real estate company owners wanting me as a designer. I can definitely get the money together."
"Winona," Frank said, looking at her mangled hand, grabbing it. He wanted to scold her but couldn't bring himself to. "If you need to raise money, you need to take care of your hands. If they're injured, how will you work?"
On the way back, Winona curled up on the sofa, not speaking or crying, like a lifeless statue.
Frank wanted to comfort her, but the words felt hollow even to him. How could he convince Winona?
Once ashore, they stopped at a roadside diner and ordered a few dishes. Winona didn't need any urging, picking up her bowl and eating without being picky, mechanically consuming whatever she grabbed. She needed strength to continue her desperate search for Zachary.
Frank's eyes became misty. Just as he was about to tell her to slow down, a commotion erupted near the car.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
