Chapter 12
As a servant, Paula had no choice but to agree. “Yes, sir p>
Kingsley’s right eyelid twitched violently, and the ominous feeling in his gut intensified. He deepened his voice, issuing a stark warning. “Watch her. If she goes missing, you can all pack your bags and retire early p>
“Understood!” Paula’s voice was firm.
Hanging up, Kingsley stood by the window of the smoking room, slowly exhaling a ring of smoke. His eyes were dark, drowning in a tide of unprecedented anxiety. He stubbed out the nearly finished cigarette and turned toward the doctor’s office. The physician was a leading authority in the UK. Kingsley went in and had a detailed discussion.
The doctor explained that Joyce waking up was already a medical miracle-the probability of a vegetative patient awakening was incredibly low.
Though her body was weak, she would slowly regain strength and stay awake for longer periods.
However, the doctor cautioned that after lying in bed for seven years, despite daily massages, muscle atrophy was severe. She would require long-term rehabilitation to speak and walk normally again.
Kingsley nodded and didn’t ask further questions. Leaving the office, he didn’t return to the ward but went straight to his UK residence.
Back at the house, his mood only darkened. He sat alone in the study, smoking one cigarette after another, silent as a statue.
Back in the Capital, Jane received a reply from ‘Lucy’ just before bed: [I’m abroad. I’ll catch up with you when I get back p>
Jane immediately replied: [Did you land? Are you on vacation p>
The reply didn’t come immediately. A few minutes later: [Yes, just clearing my head p>
Jane didn’t overthink it. She put down her phone and went to sleep. By noon the next day, however, Jane had been scrolling through her phone and felt a rising suspicion.
She hadn’t seen a single update from Lucy.
Lucy was an over-sharer by nature; she used to send photos or videos even if she was just out for
breakfast and her Instagram Stories were never empty. But this time, not only were there no messages, but
her social media feed was ne
completely blank. It wasn’t her style.
Even knowing the time difference, Jane couldn’t resist texting Lucy: [Did you not go
out, or are you just jet-lagged p>
She expected a long wait, but the reply came quickly: [Jet-lagged p>
Jane immediately sent a voice note: [Still awake p>
The reply was even faster: [About to sleep p>
Jane followed up with: [Rest well p>
The next morning, Jane sat at the dining table listening to the morning news and scrolling through her feed as usual. But no matter how much she refreshed, Lucy’s avatar never popped up with a new update. “This is too weird. Lucy’s on a trip and hasn’t posted a single thing,” she muttered, her doubts deepening.
Lucy wasn’t like this. Her social media was always full of her presence-curated selfies or varied gourmet meals. She was practically addicted to posting. This silence was abnormal.
Thurston, hearing this and remembering Kingsley’s track record of deception, said without much confidence, “It’s probably nothing p>
He quickly added, “I’ll have someone check. Maybe she’s just resting p>
“You don’t understand,” Jane said, her anxiety spiking and ruining her appetite.
“Even if Lucy was resting, she’d post about resting p>