you even feel guilty?”
“If you don’t trust me, why are you even asking for an explanation?”
Trust was like a wall. Once it cracked, it never stood the same again.
“Corneas extracted.”
“Prolonged blunt force trauma resulting in cardiac contusions.”
“Severe blood loss, cranial impact leading to concussion.”
“Dislocated knee joints.”
“Severed tongue tissue and delayed intervention resulting in impaired recovery.”
1/3
+15 BONUS
“Postoperative Diagnosis: Post–Traumatic Stress Disorder.”
As Henry’s eyes ran over the clinical words on the medical report, he felt like he was going insane.
While the light above the operating room was still on, his body felt weightless, and he sank to the floor.
“Mrs. Benson, what’s going on with that patient in the emergency room? It looks really serious!” A few doctors and nurses
hurried past.
“It’s brutal. She’s already 65 years old–half a foot in the grave–and now her corneas have been forcibly taken. The fact that
she’s even alive is a miracle.”
“That kind of injury… Just thinking about it gives me nightmares. I wonder who did this to her.”
“Could it be… you know, the one…” From that livestreamed case?
Their eyes met, but none of them dared to say a word. They quickened their pace and disappeared down the hall.
“Mom, you’re going to be okay!” Henry clutched his chest as the pain was growing unbearable.
“As long as you wake up, Jess and I will stay with you. Always!”
Jess?
Henry’s breath hitched. He suddenly shot to his feet, fumbled for his phone and dialed my number repeatedly.
When he couldn’t reach me, he nearly smashed it against the floor before forcing himself to call his assistant.
“Find Jessica!”
“Mr. Larson, I’ve been trying too, but I can’t reach her.”
Henry’s vision blurred, and he felt the ground tilt beneath him.
“Mobilize everyone to find her now!” he ordered, clenching his teeth tightly.
Just before hanging up, his assistant said, “Mr. Larson, the police have been trying to reach you about an organ trafficking case. You didn’t answer, and they’re still trying to reach you.”
He gave a simple “Okay“.
Never–never in his worst nightmares–had he imagined his wife and his mother to suffer through the same unspeakable horror
from that video.
Blood splattered as the video was filled with raw and gut–wrenching screams.
Then, Henry saw the scene where I got on my knees with desperation carving into every movement. I was begging him over the
phone as I slammed my forehead against the ground.
I called him so many times, but only one had gone through. And yet, he hadn’t believed me when I told him I was taken hostage.
2/3
Chapter 6
I’ll
+15 BONUS
get ten million dollars for you at your funeral!” That was the last thing Henry ever said to me.
His words were right. Now, it was time for him to claim my corpse.
In an instant, Henry’s mind fractured. He could hear his own words over and over again-“I’ll burn ten million dollars for you
when you die.”
He stared at my throat that was pierced and my wide–open eyes that were refusing to shut.
Then, something inside him snapped.
Henry stumbled forward, collapsing beside me in a fit of pure, unrestrained despair.
“Jessica! Get up! Don’t lie here–get up!”
His cries were raw and torn straight from his soul. Even so, his tears and snot were mixed as he wept like a child.
If I were still here to see the almighty Henry Larson breaking down like this over me, I’d be stunned.
