Revenge of The Furtive Billionaire Heir

214. Sob

I stumble out of the hospital, swaying on my feet as if I was a crazy man. Nothing registers in my eyes, not the vehicles traveling in front of the hospital, not the ambulances coming blaring in bearing patients and paramedics, not the normal patients coming in with their health crisis sorted, coughing into tissues or holding bags of medical information…I certainly do not register the visitors coming in, bearing small comforts for their recovering loved ones, hoping to see them lit up with health upon seeing them enter their wards or their separate rooms.

Recovering loved ones. What a concept that is.

I do wonder, however, distantly as if I’m having an out-of-body experience, if they had witnessed loss as I had. I wonder if any of them had their loved ones rushed into the hospital after being tortured or shot, after being held in a dark basement while suffering unspeakable horrors hoping for rescue, only to be cut down like a lamb right in front of the man they thought would be their