Chapter 649
Her fortunes had changed for the better due to her savvy and timely investments in the stock market.
Reflecting on her earlier struggles, Fernanda often recalled Mr. Bernard, who had imparted crucial life skills to her. She wondered if he still remembered her after all these years.
Lost in their respective reveries, both sat quietly.
The silence was broken by a vibration from Neal’s pocket.
Fernanda noticed Neal stiffen suddenly.
“What’s the matter?” she inquired.
“Nothing,” Neal mumbled as he patted his pocket, choosing not to retrieve his phone. Abruptly, he stood, saying, “I have to leave. Something urgent came up.”
In his rush to leave, Neal’s leg collided with the table’s edge with a resounding thud that made Fernanda wince.
Despite the pain, he seemed undisturbed, hurrying out of the studio and leaving the door ajar.
Fernanda listened as his footsteps receded rapidly.
Choosing the stairs over the elevator, Neal burst into the dimly lit emergency stairwell.
The lights in the stairwell flickered out, leaving only a faint orange hue that barely touched the dark corners. Enveloped in shadow, Neal was nearly invisible.
He pulled his phone from his pocket, the glowing screen showing a familiar number, though it remained unnamed.
Neal bit his lip, closing his eyes in despair.
Slumping against the wall, he felt the phone tremble in his grasp, pause, and then tremble once more.
Darkness now consumed the stairwell entirely, and the abrupt coldness of an unseen draft brushed against his legs.
Despite the chilling, almost sinister atmosphere, Neal found a peculiar peace in the darkness. This kind of setting, usually filled with fear, now gave him an unexpected sense of calm. In the engulfing shadows, he found comfort—a void where he could disappear completely. He no longer searched for the fleeting lights beyond this place.
This dark haven felt fitting, a place where he could fade away unseen. Time dragged on until the persistent vibration of his phone grew intolerable, prompting him to press the answer button mechanically.
“I don’t have any money,” he said, taking the initiative.
The voice on the line laughed softly. “Neal, I didn’t call to ask for money. I’ve just been missing you a lot and wanted to catch up. Don’t you feel the same?”
A cold dread washed over Neal, sinking his heart and chilling him to his core.
By the time Neal approached his apartment complex, the clock was nearing ten in the evening.
Though it was spring, a season that typically promised warmth, the chill in the air persisted. No matter how tightly he wrapped his jacket around his body, it did little to keep the cold at bay.
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