Crowell was at the hospital, having just received the news about his sonâs death two minutes earlier. The doctor had attempted resuscitation, but it was already too late.
The cries in the background made the doubts in Fionaâs heart unbearable.
If this was a scheme to take the child, surely it was excessively cruel?
âFiona, he slipped from my grasp for just a second, and he tumbled from the balcony. Iâm so sorryâ¦â
At that moment, Fionaâs breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps, her emotions overwhelming her. âIs that really the truth?â
âWhy would I lie at a time like this? Iâm at the hospital right now. Please, come here.â
Fiona clasped her hand over her mouth, shock paralyzing her even as the traffic light turned green. âAh!â
Her scream shattered the silence, a desperate attempt to drown out the reality, as if by denying it, she could undo the truth she had just been told.
The news of Fionaâs sonâs tragic death spread swiftly, causing Michael, who had a business trip scheduled for the night, to cancel his plans and rush to the hospital.
The hospital was in chaos, filled with reporters, the Hewitt family, Fiona, property management, neighbors, police, and doctors.
Dulce was seated away from the frenzy, yet Michael spotted her instantly. After all, it was Dulce who had broken the news to him. She appeared deeply affected, lost in thought, and oblivious to his approach.
âDulce,â Michael called out.
Dulce jumped to her feet, blurting out, âHere!â
gðªðµð·Ïvððµð¼.cøm â check it out!
Recognizing Michael, she exhaled in relief. As the first to witness the incident, the police had already interrogated her multiple times. Before Michaelâs arrival, she had felt utterly isolated, as though she were battling the overwhelming situation alone.
She hesitated to reveal the truth prematurely, since Crowellâs convincing act had garnered widespread sympathy. Now, with Michael by her sideâsomeone who genuinely supported Fiona and her sonâDulce felt her statements would carry more weight and her safety was somewhat assured.
âThereâs nothing more for you to do here. You should head back,â Michael suggested.
Dulce quickly moved closer, clutching the hem of Michaelâs coat. âI saw it.â Amidst the bustling crowd, filled with conflicting views and noisy discussions, Michael caught the tail end of Dulceâs declaration and stood still, shocked. âWhat did you just say?â
âI saw it. Crowell threw the child from the building.â
Dulce had hoped against hope for the childâs survival, but to no avail. The torment of exerting every effort, yet always falling short, was unbearable.
âAre you sure?â Michael asked, his brow furrowed as he looked at Dulce.
Dulce raised her head, her eyes reflecting pure certainty. She knew that even Fiona might struggle to accept such a claim without question.
âDo you doubt my word?â
Their hushed conversation seemed isolated from the hospitalâs turmoil, focused solely on whether Michael believed her account.
.
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