Chapter 385
James finally made it over, collapsing onto the table in a flurry. He devoured the leftovers Melody had tidied away, desperately trying to regain his strength.
Meanwhile, the four of us were at a standoff.
Bran glanced at me, his eyebrow raised as if to say I had finally made a smart move.
But Melody seemed unfazed. "You think you can kill me?"
"Try me," I countered with feigned calm, the blade of my knife pressing against her jugular, so sharp it nicked her skin.
Dexter's expression darkened, his voice thundering, "Foebe Larson!"
There it was, he called me Foebe Larson.
Convinced that Melody was the true Phoebe Caldwell.
I scoffed. "If you don't want her dead, drop the food."
Reluctantly, Dexter took the package from Melody, opened it, and placed the food on the table.
Bran grabbed some, enough for our survival, and led me to a corner.
I kept a watchful eye on Melody and Dexter, whispering to Bran, "They're dangerous."
Here, the real danger wasn't the manipulator but every person who had been captured.
"Let's go help Colin." After a few bites of a cupcake, feeling somewhat revitalized, I took some food and a carton of milk to find Colin.
He was helping a woman who had suffered domestic abuse look for Zoe.
I hurried over, handing Colin the cupcake.
While munching, Colin knocked on doors, searching for keys to help the people inside.
He moved through each room with a stoic expression, freeing everyone he found.
Compared to Dexter and Melody's indifference, the so-called lunatic and the once-suspected murderer seemed to possess a bit more humanity.
"Colin..." I whispered, "Most of these people locked up here are from the orphanage. They've hurt you, and they're responsible for Carter's death. Wouldn't it be better to let them die here?"
Colin remained silent. "Their guilt should be judged by the law and fate, not by us, and certainly not by him."
His voice was low, referring to the person orchestrating everything from behind the scenes.
Handing him the milk, I helped him search for Zoe.
With a clang, a metal door swung open, revealing Jaxon.
The domestic abuser.
His first instinct wasn't to look for food but to lash out at his wife.
"Annora, you damn... bitch, didel
do this!"
The woman, terrified, hid behind Colin and me, her body shaking.
Her face, especially around the mouth, bore the marks of long-term abuse.
"I'd save your energy if I were you. In this place, we're lucky if any of us make it out alive," I warned him. Finally catching on, he turned and ran towards the end of the corridor, searching for food and weapons. The kids from the orphanage, even if not geniuses, were mostly sharp enough to find a way out. They looked quite different from their photos, making it hard for me to remember their names.
At last, Colin and I found Zoe in a room, barely clinging to life.
We knocked on the door, but there was no response.
"Zoe, Zoe!" Annora banged on the door, crying for her sister to answer.
But there was silence.
Panic set in... If she was unconscious inside, and we didn't know where the key was, how could we rescue her? Just when I was at a loss, Bran arrived with an axe, repeatedly striking the door lock, sparks flying. Eventually, the lock gave way, and the door burst open.
Bran rushed in first, offering Zoe a bottle of water. She was curled up in a corner, pale and clearly on the brink.
On her wall was written, "If you can't
change
your filthy world, then c . Survival of the fittChange
the
weak perish." All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.
I didn't understand, looking at Colin for some sort of explanation.
Colin pointed to a corner where a tile
was
with a drop of blood a
around it.
st as to the cleanliness rast to the cleanliness