Rena listened in quiet contemplation.
She had lost too much this night.
In this moment, upon hearing the doctorâs words, instead of sad and desperate, she only felt numb.
In the early morning, Waylen returned to his apartment, feeling a heaviness in his heart.
As he drove home, he noticed a white BMW parked on the road, surrounded by a crowd of onlookers eager to capture the scene on their cameras.
But Waylenâs attention was drawn to the license plate number, and his heart skipped a beat.
It was Renaâs car.
Quickly parking his own vehicle, Waylen crossed the road in a rush.
The white BMW sat abandoned.
Its hood was raised, enduring the rain that had fallen throughout the night.
The door to the driverâs seat was open, and he discovered a ladyâs wallet soaked by the rain, lying on the seat.
Murmurs from the gathering crowd filled the air.
âWhose car is it? Why would someone leave their car on the side of the road like this?â
âMaybe the owner couldnât bear it and decided to end their life?â
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âThe car looks wrecked, and the person is likely dead.
How tragic!â
Waylen stood upright, momentarily forgetting to breathe.
He mechanically took out his phone, trying to make a call, only to find it turned off.
Acting on instinct, he reached for Renaâs wallet and closed the car door.
A voice from the crowd cried-out, âHow can you take someone elseâs belongings?â
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The onlookers regarded him with disdain, assuming he was merely at heartless opportunist.
Waylen quickly returned to his car, charging his phone and dialing Renaâs number as soon as it turned on.
The phone rang for what felt like an eternity before she finally answered.
Exhaustion laced Renaâs voice as she said, âWaylen, letâs discuss our matters later.
â
And with those words, she ended the call.
Waylen furrowed his brow, realizing she was probably still upset with him.