Chapter 276 I Will Feel Guilty for a Lifetime
Asher, his face a mask of fury, paced the plush carpet of his penthouse suite, his rage radiating outwards like heat from a furnace. His underlings, sensing his volatile mood, remained silent, their eyes fixed on the floor.
"Uriah," he growled, his voice tight with suppressed rage, "Is there any way to silence these fools online?"
The constant barrage of praise for James and the endless stream of tributes and condolences were driving him mad. He couldn't escape it, couldn't silence the voices that whispered of James' heroism, that painted him as a martyr, a saint.
Uriah, ever calm and collected, considered the problem for a moment, his gaze distant. "The most effective way," he said finally, "would be to launch a smear campaign. Find people to spread rumors, to plant seeds of doubt about his character, his motives."
Asher's eyes gleamed with a dangerous light. "Do it," he commanded, his voice cold and sharp as a shard of ice. "Money is no object. I want his name dragged through the mud. I want the world to see him for the fraud he was."
Uriah nodded curtly, his expression unreadable. As Asher and Soren stormed out of the room, their anger a palpable presence in their wake, he stood by the window, gazing out at the city below, a strange melancholy settling over him.
"James," he murmured, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, "are you truly gone? We never did have our final match."
Concurrently, at the hospital, Jennifer emerged from her restive slumber. Her eyes fluttered open, their usual vibrancy replaced by a dull ache of confusion. Then, as the events of the day came crashing back, she sat bolt upright, her voice a frantic whisper.
"Where's James? Where's James?"
Her sudden movement startled the others in the room – the two teachers, their faces etched with concern, and a handful of strangers, their eyes filled with a mixture of sympathy and admiration.
Ignoring their worried murmurs, Jennifer attempted to rise from her bed, her body trembling amidst a cocktail of weakness and desperation. But the world tilted precariously, and she sank back against the pillows, her head spinning.
"My head," she groaned, pressing her hand against her temple. "It feels like it's splitting open."
At that moment, the door swung open, and Dennis and Kaitlyn rushed in, their faces a mixture of relief and concern. A doctor and a nurse followed close behind, their expressions somber.
"Jennifer, darling," Kaitlyn cried, rushing to her side and enfolding her in a hug. "You're awake! Thank goodness!"
Jennifer clung to her mother for a moment, drawing strength from her familiar warmth. Subsequently, as she retreated, her gaze meticulously scanned their countenances, her voice taut with apprehension.
"Where's James? Is he alright? I need to see him!"
The question hung heavy in the air, the unspoken answer hovering like a specter in the small, sterile room. Dennis and Kaitlyn exchanged a look, their faces etched with a pain that mirrored her own.
Jennifer's heart sank. She knew, with a sickening certainty, what their silence meant. "He's... He's gone, isn't he?" she whispered, her voice breaking.
"No, no, sweetheart," Dennis said quickly, his voice strained. "He's not gone. He's...he's in surgery. He was badly injured, but the doctors are doing everything they can."
Kaitlyn shot him a warning look, but it was too late. Jennifer had heard the tremor in his voice, the note of forced optimism that did little to mask the underlying fear.
"Surgery?" she echoed, her eyes widening. "What kind of surgery? What happened?"
Kaitlyn took her hand, her touch gentle but firm. "Jennifer, honey, you need to calm down. The doctor will explain everything, but right now, you need to rest. You're still recovering."
Jennifer shook her head, her fear morphing into a steely determination. "I need to see him," she insisted, her voice gaining strength. "I need to be there when he wakes up."
The doctor, a kind-faced woman with tired eyes, stepped forward. "Jennifer," she said gently, "I understand your concern, but James is in critical condition. The surgery is very delicate, and it's going to be a long night. Even if you were to wait outside the operating room, you wouldn't be able to see him."
Jennifer stared at her, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and defiance. "I don't care," she said, her voice trembling but resolute. "I need to be close to him. I can't... I won't leave him."
Kaitlyn and Dennis exchanged a look, their faces etched with a mixture of love and helplessness. It was evident to them that their daughter, having firmly made up her mind, could not be swayed from her decision.
"Alright, sweetheart," Kaitlyn said softly, her hand resting on Jennifer's arm. "We'll wait with you."
But as they turned to leave the room, a figure appeared in the doorway, her face pale, her eyes red-rimmed and filled with a grief that mirrored their own. It was Harmony.
Their gazes met, and the two women, bound by their love for the same man, united in their shared grief and uncertainty.
"Harmony," Jennifer breathed, her voice barely a whisper.
"Jennifer," Harmony replied, her voice thick with unshed tears.
For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the air thick with unspoken words, with the weight of their shared loss. And then, as if moved by a single, unspoken thought, they both turned towards the door, their faces set with a quiet determination.
They would wait. They would hope. They would face the coming dawn together.
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