Chapter 17
The blizzard knocked Andrew out with a raging fever, dragging him back into unconsciousness.
Even delirious, he kept calling Lena’s name.
Kenny couldn’t take it. He pulled every string, hoping to get Lena to visit. But all he got in return was a voice recorder, delivered
by one of Vernon’s men.
The hospital room was dead silent. Andrew sat there, staring at the recorder for what felt like forever before finally hitting play.
A burst of static. Then Lena’s voice filled the air–light, almost mocking. “If Nicole hadn’t been exposed, I would’ve never had his
apology.
“People are always like this–seeing the truth too late, realizing regret only after losing everything.
“But I don’t need his guilt. I don’t want to let him drag me back into the past. Nothing good would come of it–just more pain,
more regret.
“No more contact, no more meetings. That’s the only ending that made sense.”
Andrew played it again. And again.
Desperation clawed at him. Maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe it was a trick.
But he knew Lena’s voice too well. Every word was real.
No anger. No resentment. Just cold, detached indifference.
And that told him everything.
‘Andrew, let it go. She’s gone.‘
Bang!
The recorder shattered against the floor.
Andrew’s chest heaved as he clutched at it, eyes bloodshot, breath ragged.
Kenny burst in at the noise–only to be met with a furious roar.
“Get out!”
