Chapter 86
Chapter 86
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Harry stared at the family photo, his heart aching as tears streamed down his face. Blood mixed with his tears, smearing Camila’s face in the picture.
He frantically tried to wipe away the blood, but the more he wiped, the worse it got. The red stains spread across Camila’s image, a cruel reminder of her shattered life, which was forever marked by pain.
Just this one photo was enough to flood Harry’s mind with painful memories. The anguish was so overwhelming that he nearly fainted. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Camila’s diary anymore. With trembling hands, he shoved it into a drawer and slammed it shut.
Harry clutched the blood–stained photo and tried to leave the storage room. But as he stood, the room spun, and he lost his balance, collapsing to the ground and coughing up blood. His stomach felt like it was tearing apart.
He struggled on the floor for a long time, but couldn’t stand up. With shaking hands, he finally managed to pull out his phone and dial Michael’s number.
The call connected, and Michael’s voice came through, sounding confused. “Harry? Why are you calling me so late?”
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but it felt as though his throat was blocked. No words came out–only the sound of violent coughing and blood being coughed up.
Michael’s tone instantly shifted to alarm. “What’s going on? Are you okay? What happened?”
After a long pause, Harry barely managed to choke out a few words, his voice trembling and choked with sobs. “I… I was wrong. I’m sorry.” Each word seemed to be dragged out from the depths of his shattered soul.
Michael was confused, but sensing Harry’s distress, he had a hunch it was related to Camila. He quickly said, “Calm down, Harry. Just tell me where you are.”
But Harry seemed not to hear him. He continued speaking as if in a trance. “I saw her certificates, her acceptance letter, and that family photo… How could I treat her like that? How could I do that?”
Michael fell silent, unsure how to comfort him. After a moment, he said, “Stay where you are. I’ll come find you right away.”
After hanging up, Harry remained on the floor, staring blankly ahead. His mind was consumed by memories of Camila’s life in this house–the pain he’d overlooked, the dreams he’d shattered. They surged forward like a tidal wave, drowning him completely.
He stared at the blood–stained family photo in his hand. Camila’s face blurred beyond recognition. Her desperate gaze haunted him. ‘How can I ever make this right? What can I do?‘ he thought, shutting his eyes in pain.
****
Michael rushed to the Jackson residence. Arthur and Belinda were startled awake. As they saw Michael’s grave expression, a bad feeling hit them.
Under Michael’s urging, they began searching for Harry, tearing through nearly every room in the house but finding no sign of him.
Michael pulled out his phone and called Harry. The ringtone echoed faintly, leading the three of them to the storage room. The door was slightly ajar, and through the gap, they could faintly see someone on the floor. Michael’s heart sank as he shoved the door open.
The sharp, metallic tang of blood filled the air, making Michael’s steps falter for a moment.
Harry lay on the cold floor, his surroundings stained red from the blood he had vomited. His face was pale, with a streak of
Chapter 86
blood trailing from the corner of his mouth to his chin.
Even in this dire state, he still clutched a blood–soaked family photo,
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Michael hurried forward, crouching beside Harry. “Harry, Harry, wake up!” he called, his voice urgent, but there was no
response.
Arthur and Belinda froze at the sight of Harry lying in a pool of blood. A moment later, a piercing scream tore from their throats.
Belinda’s tears streamed down her face. “He was fine this morning. How did it come to this?” she wailed.
As she cried, a sudden thought struck her. Her sobbing stopped, and she looked around the storage room. Instead of feeling guilty about Camila living in such a damp and dark space, she placed all the blame for Harry’s condition squarely on Camila,
“It’s all that ungrateful girl’s fault. If she hadn’t kept provoking Harry over and over, he wouldn’t be like this. He’s her brother! How could she be so heartless?
“If anything happens to Harry, I’ll make her pay!” Belinda cried, her voice trembling with rage.
Hearing Belinda’s words, Arthur found an outlet for his anger. His face twisted with fury as he snorted and chimed in, “That jinx! Ever since she showed up, she’s been nothing but a curse. She’s turned our once peaceful home into a mess.
“Harry gave her everything, and this is how she repays him? By driving him to this state?” Arthur’s voice echoed through the storage room, filled with unyielding indignation.
Belinda’s sobs grew louder. “That heartless girl! She did this on purpose just to make us suffer. She was trying to get back at us.”
This unreasonable couple made Michael’s anger boil over. Harry was on the brink of death, and all these two could do was rant about Camila.
He stepped forward, positioning himself protectively in front of Harry. “Enough! Stop blaming others and help me get him to the hospital, now,” he shouted.
Without waiting for a response, Michael bent down to lift Harry. Arthur and Belinda snapped out of their daze and scrambled to help. After a lot of effort, they finally got Harry into the car.
On the drive, Arthur and Belinda kept complaining about Camila. If not for needing their signatures for the surgery, Michael would have thrown them out of the car.
*****
At Mercy Hospital, William, his head still wrapped in bandages, couldn’t sleep. Late at night, he decided to step out of his room for some fresh air.
The hospital at night was eerily quiet. Dim lights cast long shadows on the walls, soft yet devoid of warmth, making the empty halls feel even lonelier. His footsteps echoed, and his solitary figure seemed to stretch endlessly.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps and agonized groans shattered the stillness. William instinctively looked up and saw medical staff rushing toward him, pushing two stretchers.
The staff sprinted past him, their faces tight with worry. They moved so quickly that the air stirred faintly as they passed.
Even in their haste, William managed to catch a clear glimpse of the patients on the stretchers. One was Harry- unconscious, covered in blood, with dried blood staining the corner of his lips.
The other was Owen, writhing in pain, his leg bent at a grotesque angle, clearly broken.
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The sight hit William like a punch to the gut. His already pale face turned even whiter, his heart sinking as he stood frozen in place.
He turned around, his eyes drawn to the two stretchers, and unconsciously followed them all the way to the emergency room door.
