Chapter 712
Chapter 712:
But Millie made no move toward the offered nightclothes.
“I need…” Her voice emerged as a broken rasp, each word scraping against her damaged throat. “I need to wash myself clean p>
Myron’s vision blurred with fresh tears, and he nodded with immediate understanding. “Of course—I’ll prepare the bath for you right away p>
The bathwater reached the perfect temperature within minutes, and Myron carried Millie into the steam-filled sanctuary.
Her legs couldn’t support her weight, so he positioned her carefully on the bathtub’s marble edge.
“I’ll remain just outside this door—you have nothing to fear anymore,” Myron promised, then retreated to give her the privacy she craved.
Millie watched him disappear beyond the threshold, then began peeling away her ruined garments with mechanical precision before lowering herself into the welcoming warmth, bracing against the tub’s smooth walls.
The water embraced her battered body like a healing cocoon, and fresh tears began their inevitable descent.
Her wrists blazed with renewed fire beneath the water’s touch, but she registered the pain with detached indifference.
She began scrubbing her skin with desperate intensity. Her movements grew increasingly frantic, abrading her flesh until angry red welts bloomed across her body. Then she seized a coarse bath sponge to intensify her self-punishment, scrubbing until her skin split and crimson threads swirled through the water, her nerve endings screaming in protest.
“Why did fate choose me for this horror p>
Tears merged seamlessly with the bathwater as Millie surrendered to silent, soul-deep sobs.
Myron remained stationed outside the bathroom door, his fists coiled tight as steel springs. The brutal scene from mere minutes before cycled relentlessly through his consciousness, each replay more vivid than the last.
Rage blazed through his veins like wildfire. He yanked his phone from his pocket and fired off a terse message to his contact.
𝗦𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 → gⱯ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝗍𝖊𝗅𝘀⍰𝖼𝗈𝗺
Buzz, buzz.
His device trembled against his palm as urgent messages ricocheted between sender and receiver.
Knock, knock.
Eventually, measured rapping echoed against the bedroom door.
Myron’s gaze shifted to discover Maggie positioned at the threshold, her expression drawn with concern.
“Mr. Elliott, the medical professionals have arrived,” Maggie announced, her eyes darting nervously toward the sealed bathroom. “Both the physician and the psychiatric specialist are waiting downstairs p>
Myron acknowledged with a curt nod, instructing Maggie to escort them to the sitting room for now. His attention returned immediately to the bathroom, anxiety gnawing at his composure.
He recalled how she had struggled to recognize even familiar faces earlier, her mind trapped in confusion and fear.
From that harrowing moment until this very instant, he had maintained his vigil at her side.