At MedStar Washington Hospital Center, Charles was still undergoing intensive treatment. The medical team worked diligently to extract glass fragments from his head. Julie paced back and forth in the waiting room, her hands trembling as she muttered a desperate prayer for his recovery.

When the doctor finally emerged, his expression was somber. “Given his history of head trauma and the previous coma, I’m afraid he might slip into another coma,” he said gently, but his eyes betrayed the gravity of the situation.

Julie felt a cold wave of panic. “No! Doctor, that can’t be right! Charles will be fine, I know it,” she insisted, pushing past him and rushing into the operating room. The acrid scent of antiseptic stung her nostrils as she saw Charles’s pale, motionless form being wheeled out. “Charles, it’s me, Julie. Please, just open your eyes,” she pleaded, her voice cracking over the beeping monitors that seemed to grow louder with each passing second. But his eyes remained closed.

Despair overwhelmed her, and she collapsed onto the cold, sterile floor, tears streaming uncontrollably. The weight of guilt pressed heavily on her chest. “If I hadn’t followed Sam to that mansion, Charles wouldn’t be in this state,” she sobbed, her tears mingling with the harsh, mechanical sounds of the hospital.

***********************************

Meanwhile, at the Hugghs mansion, Mr. Hugghs had confined Bliss in a lavish, dimly lit room with heavy drapes and antique furniture. His wife, visibly distressed, confronted him. “Darling, I understand you’re consumed by revenge, but consider this girl. She’s innocent and unwell. How can you be so merciless?” she implored, her voice tinged with genuine sorrow.

Mr. Hugghs’s gaze was cold and unyielding. “This isn’t the woman I married. That prison has made your heart soft,” he said dismissively. Mrs. Hugghs cast one last pitying look at Bliss before walking away, her footsteps echoing in the grand hallway.

Mr. Hugghs chuckled darkly, his laughter resonating through the dim room. “Do you think I’m a fool? I’m not trading one problem for another. You, my dear, are merely a pawn in my plan,” he said, his eyes gleaming with malevolence as he set up his camera. The flickering glow of the computer screen cast unsettling shadows on the walls.

He had devised a cunning plan: to use the video to lure Sam to the U.S., where he intended to kill him. “It’s ready,” he said, typing swiftly as he sent the video to Sam. “If Sam refuses to come, my son will take care of it,” he added, his voice thick with menace.

“This won’t end well for you. The authorities will find you, and you’ll face justice,” Bliss shouted defiantly. Mr. Hugghs laughed, the sound echoing eerily. “Seems you don’t grasp the rules of the game. Anyone who calls 911 ensures everyone’s demise,” he said, still laughing.

~Sam~

I was scrolling through my phone when a video from an unknown number appeared. I hesitated, then clicked to play. My heart raced as the video unfolded, the howling wind outside intensifying the tension. The flickering TV light illuminated my shocked face. “No! How? What happened to Bliss?” I gasped, my voice breaking the eerie silence of my room.

Only one person could be behind this: Mr. Hugghs. “Hold on, Bliss. I’m coming,” I vowed, my hands trembling as I hurriedly packed a suitcase. The ticking clock on the wall seemed to mock my urgency with each slow, deliberate tick. That evening, I asked my dad to book a flight to the U.S. for the following morning.

My parents were bewildered by my sudden urgency. “What’s going on, Sam?” my dad asked, his face etched with concern. The comforting aroma of my mom’s cooking wafted from the kitchen, a stark contrast to the tension that gripped the room. I needed them to understand the gravity of the situation.

An idea struck me. I began to cry, my sobs becoming a torrent as I mourned the hardships of my life since leaving the U.S. My tears pooled on the polished wooden table, each drop a testament to my anguish as I spoke of friends, grandpa, and grandma; my emotions laid bare.

That was enough to sway them.

My mom wrapped me in a comforting embrace. “Don’t worry, it’s all arranged. You’re flying to the U.S. tomorrow,” she reassured me. Overcome with relief, I hugged my parents tightly, drawing strength from their warmth, before retreating to my room to finalize my plans.

Although calling 911 crossed my mind, Mr. Hugghs had warned me explicitly in the video. I had to come up with a plan quickly. At least he wasn’t aware of my grandparents; otherwise, my entire family could have been in danger. This was my battle, and I had to face it alone.

I called Julius to explain my abrupt departure, fabricating a story to keep things under wraps. I felt a pang of regret about leaving Linda without notice, but there was no time to visit the orphanage. “I hope she understands,” I murmured as I drifted off to sleep, the weight of the situation heavy on my mind.

---