âYouâve admitted it, havenât you? You donât want to deal with me anymore, so go. Just go.â
Adrianâs jaw tightened, his tension visible in every line of his face. Joelle grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the ward. He glanced at her tear-soaked face, his expression softening slightly.
âDonât cry, Joelle. Wade filled his head with poison. Thereâs nothing we can say that will change him now. Weâll go back tonight. Aurora and Molly are still waiting for us at home.â
Joelleâs voice trembled, barely above a whisper as she clung to Adrianâs sleeve. âDoes he really not need us anymore?â
Adrian gripped her shoulders firmly. âJoelle, heâs not our child. Weâve done everything we could.â
Joelleâs lips trembled, but after a long silence, she gave a reluctant nod.
That night, Joelle tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. No matter how she looked at it, leaving things as they were didnât sit right with her.
Before dawn, while Adrian was still fast asleep, Joelle slipped out of bed, threw on her coat, and quietly left for the hospital.
The streets were eerily empty, cloaked in the stillness of night. Joelle drove her rented car with both hands tightly gripping the wheel. As she rounded a bend, the headlights illuminated the darkened storefronts, each one lifeless and locked.
Then, out of nowhere, a shadow darted into her path. A towering man with a spiked club appeared, stepping into her lane.
The headlights lit up his faceâa menacing grin twisted with cruelty, his arms adorned with tattoos. He hefted the spiked club menacingly, as if weighing it.
Joelleâs pulse quickened when she noticed a silver pickup truck parked ahead. The driverâs door creaked open, and Hooper stepped out.
Hooper approached with his usual commanding presence, his expression unreadable. âMrs. Miller, please come with us.â
Joelle instinctively reached for her phone, but the tattooed man was faster. With a guttural curse, he raised the spiked club and slammed it against her window. The glass exploded into shards, scattering across the seats. Joelle let out an involuntary scream, clutching the steering wheel as panic surged through her.
This wasnât a routine police encounter. Joelle knew it immediately.
Hooper had orchestrated this, waiting for just the right moment to act. With Adrian backing her up, Joelle believed they wouldnât treat her too harshly.
She forced herself to calm down, got out of the car, and closed the door. âThe way you invite me for a talk is quite unconventional.â
Hooperâs hand rested casually on the gun holstered at his waist. He offered her a faint smile, though his eyes held no warmth. âMrs. Miller, I apologize for the theatrics. We had no other choice. We need Ryland to lead us up the mountain. Weâve exhausted every resource we have to eliminate those terrorists. Surely you can understand the stakes here.â
Joelle stood her ground, her gaze unwavering. âAnd what if I say no?â
The tattooed man took a step closer, muttering a string of curses under his breath.
Hooper raised a hand to halt him, his expression hardening. âI hear you have two daughters.â
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