chapter 92-Framed 1

Stephen gasped at the sound of his ragged breathing as his mind raced to wrap itself around what had just happened. Scene in front of him was a nightmare from which he could not wake up. Victor lay lifeless on the cold floor, his once-gray concrete now turned into a deep, sickened red, blood pooling around his lifeless body, from where the wound bled. It twisted something deep inside him that he was not sure would ever right again.

Charles stood there, a ghost of the man Stephen thought he knew, his face pale and his eyes hollow. His hand shook a little as he raised it, as if to try to convey an apology without words, but Stephen was not looking for an apology. He wanted answers—answers that might never come.

"Yuna is fine," all but whispered Charles— hushed, almost too hushed, to the point where this was the kind of hush that tried to soothe but only made matters worse. "She's safe with me."

Stephen's eyes narrowed as he tried to take in the words. A cold dread tightened in his chest
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