Chapter 6 Awakened From The Depths

Jack Pov

"Rose, how are you?" I asked with genuine concern, hoping to repair the damage between us. Her response was bitter and accusatory: "Jack, you've come back only to betray me," revealing the pain caused by my absence. Mistrust had clearly settled between us, overshadowing the love we once shared.

"I've always sensed that your feelings for me were insincere," she said sharply, her words piercing my heart. I realized that my actions had deeply hurt her, and the weight of my decisions loomed large, casting a shadow over any chance of reconciliation.

"Rose, I was trapped by circumstances; the marriage felt like a burden," I tried to explain, hoping to shed light on the turmoil that led me astray. Societal pressures had clouded my judgment, leading to a situation that now seemed irreparable. Her comment on my current marital status only complicated things further, highlighting the tangled mess we were in.

"We can work through this together," I proposed, clinging to the hope that remained. Despite the obstacles, I was determined to fight for us and the love we once had. However, her revelation that she was pregnant added a new layer of complexity, leaving me stunned and at a loss for words.

"But we never discussed a pregnancy. How did this happen?" I asked, struggling to understand the unexpected development. Her accusation struck me deeply, revealing the pain and isolation she had endured. The realization of her suffering made me question everything I thought I knew.

"Did you expect me to keep terminating pregnancies while you were committed to someone else?" she accused, her anguish evident. The truth of her words

The physician meticulously examined my eyes for any abnormalities and then took my blood pressure with great precision. After a thorough check, he reassured me, saying, "Everything seems to be within normal range," which brought me significant relief, knowing my health was stable.

"The patient has finally regained consciousness!" the nurse announced with genuine excitement, her voice brimming with relief and joy. Her words filled the room with a hopeful and positive energy, marking a major step in my recovery.

The doctor then instructed the nurse to notify my parents about my awakening, highlighting the importance of their support during this time. Soon after, the nurse returned with my mother, both of them showing a mix of emotions-relief, happiness, and a lingering worry.

"My dear, you're back with us," my mother greeted me, tears of joy streaming down her face, her voice full of love and warmth. "I've missed you so much these past three weeks," she continued, her words reflecting both longing and relief.

As I processed the reality of having been in a coma for three weeks, I felt a blend of confusion, gratitude, and disorientation. The seriousness of my situation began to hit me, prompting reflections on the passage of time and life's fragility.

At that moment, my father entered the room, his face a mix of happiness for my recovery and a sternness that indicated his protective nature. "Welcome back, son," he said proudly. "We need to start planning the wedding soon," he added, which surprised me.

"No, Father, not Rose," I interjected, feeling a sense of unease and confusion at the mention of her name. The unexpected development left me with many unanswered questions and a sense of foreboding.

The doctor then stepped in, drawing attention with his question about the significance of the name "Rose" during my awakening. His inquiry added an element of mystery to the situation, leaving us all pondering the deeper implications behind the seemingly casual mention.

Amidst the joy, relief, and uncertainty, the room was filled with emotions and unspoken questions, setting the stage for a journey of discovery and understanding in the days ahead.

Chapter 7

The shadows of suspicious

Mr Rogers Pov

After departing from the hospital, my attempts to coax the truth out of Jack regarding the mysterious identity of Rose proved futile. As I arrived home, a sense of unease enveloped me.

"I raised Jack with a firm, unwavering hand, and I doubt he could keep any secrets from me,"I mused aloud. "I used to scrutinize his every move while he was studying in London,"I added, deep in thought. "Could he have been concealing a hidden romance or some other secret?"I pondered aloud.

Suddenly, a voice broke through my contemplation from behind. It was my wife, Jack's mother. She calmly stated, "I highly doubt Jack had a secret girlfriend."

With a gentle sigh, she continued, "Jack has been in a coma for a full three weeks. Perhaps he encountered some benevolent ancestors who guided him back to us."Her words resonated with gratitude. "We should consider ourselves fortunate that he returned to us in time,"she remarked.

Although relieved, I couldn't shake the curiosity surrounding the enigmatic Rose. "But who is Rose?"I inquired again.

"Jack was not romantically involved with anyone, dear Rogers,"she reassured me.

"We must arrange the wedding once he is discharged,"she remarked."I must contact Mr. Bartholomew to inform him of the news,"I mentioned."No, my dear, pay him a visit tomorrow,"she advised.The following day, I proceeded to Mr. Bartholomew's residence to deliver the news of Jack regaining consciousness.Upon arriving at his house, I encountered a tense situation."What kind of agreement have you made with a friend that you are now demanding money?"he inquired."Dad, it's not an agreement but a business matter,"she clarified."I wish to be informed about this business,"he pressed."Dad, you cannot be privy to it, it's my personal affair,"she asserted."Darling, you have a guest,"his wife interjected."Mr. Rogers has arrived,"she added."Hello,"he greeted."Good day,"I responded."We need to talk,"I suggested."Let's adjourn to the bar,"he proposed.He led the way, and I followed closely behind.As we settled down, he gestured for me to take a seat."Ever since Jack fell into a coma, I've been distraught,"he confided."I pray for his swift recovery,"he continued.I intended to share the news but was preoccupied by the dispute between him and his daughter, seeking to uncover the truth."What seems to be troubling you?"I inquired."It was during the night, I felt a chill and decided to prepare tea in the kitchen when I overheard Benedict engaged in a telephone conversation,"he recounted."What was the nature of the conversation?"I probed."I couldn't discern all the details, but I heard phrases like 'return my money, it was not mine,'"he recounted."When you questioned her, what was her response?"I asked."She remained obstinate and refused to provide an explanation,"he lamented."I hope Jack awakens soon and they can proceed with their marriage,"he expressed.

"Children of today,"I remarked, observing the youthful energy that filled the room. "She is within my influence,"he asserted confidently, his words resonating with a sense of power and control. "Jack has returned,"I announced with a sense of anticipation, eager to share the exciting news. "He has awakened,"I exclaimed with joy, picturing the scene vividly in my mind.

He displayed immense joy, his face lighting up with a radiant smile as we raised our glasses in a toast to celebrate the momentous occasion. "I must notify them,"he stated with a sense of urgency, understanding the importance of spreading the news. "My dear,"he called out affectionately, his voice filled with warmth and care. "I am on my way,"she responded promptly, her eagerness palpable in her voice.

She drew nearer, her eyes shining with happiness and curiosity. "Jack has awakened,"he informed her, watching her reaction with bated breath. "I am overjoyed,"she expressed, her emotions bubbling over with excitement. "We must also inform her,"she suggested, thinking of sharing the joy with others. "You should inform her yourself,"he advised, emphasizing the personal touch in delivering the news.

"Benedict, please come here, I have wonderful news for you,"she beckoned, her tone filled with anticipation. Benedict approached slowly, intrigued by the mystery of the news. "Take a guess,"she teased playfully, trying to engage her in the guessing game. "Mother, I am not adept at guessing,"he admitted, her honesty shining through. "Just give it a try,"she urged, encouraging her to participate.

"Alright, you have secured a business deal,"she guessed, trying to unravel the mystery. "Not quite,"she corrected gently, adding a hint of mystery to the conversation. "Mr. Rogers is here, perhaps father has secured a contract,"she speculated, trying to piece together the puzzle. "It's something more significant than a contract, just try to guess,"she encouraged, building up the suspense.

"I am becoming frustrated,"she confessed, feeling the pressure of the guessing game. "I believe you should disclose the truth to her and cease tormenting the poor girl,"I suggested, sensing the tension in the room. "Jack has awakened,"she finally declared, ending the guessing game with a sense of relief and joy.

Chapter 8

RED LIGHT ! ! !

Charlie's POV

Everything spiraled into chaos. The scene shifted dramatically as I turned to see Mr. Ress collapsing to the floor, blood pouring from his mouth. Panic surged through me, and I darted toward the door, desperate to escape. But just as I was about to flee, a voice stopped me in my tracks.

I turned around to see a man dressed entirely in black, his face obscured, pointing a gun straight at me. "Kneel down," he ordered, his tone cold and menacing.

"Please, don't kill me," I begged, my heart racing.

"Raise your hands," he commanded, his gun unwavering.

"Please, don't kill me," I pleaded again, my voice trembling.

"Close your eyes," he said.

I shut my eyes tightly, continuing to beg for my life, bracing for the sound of a gunshot. But there was only silence. After what felt like an eternity, I mustered the courage to open my eyes, only to find that he was gone.

Frantically, I raced downstairs to find Percilva. To my horror, she was bound with rope and had a handkerchief stuffed in her mouth.

"Please, sir, don't kill me," she mumbled, her eyes wide with fear.

"Percilva, what happened?" I asked urgently as I untied her.

"Charlie, please, untie me," she pleaded.

After freeing her, I asked, "What's going on?"

"I saw a man dressed entirely in black," she explained. "He was the one who tied me up."

"I saw him too," I said. "I tried to confront him, but he overpowered me and killed the man I was with."

"We need to leave," Percilva insisted.

"We can't just leave like this," I countered. "We're in serious trouble. If the police find his body, it will trace back to us."

"I need to call my gang," I said.

"Okay, go ahead," she agreed.

I called my team, and within ten minutes, they arrived. They entered through the window-three of us in total, part of the group known as 'PSCF,' which stood for 'Perfect, Smart, Computer Fast.' I earned the nickname 'Fast' because of my quick reflexes and ability to act under pressure.

"How did it go?" Perfect asked, his gaze serious.

"A black-clad man killed him," I reported.

"My attempt didn't succeed," I added.

"We need to investigate this black-clad man," Smart said. "But first, we must deal with the corpse. The police will link him to us through the basketball handle that you used."

"Where's the body?" Computer inquired.

We headed upstairs to Mr. Ress's chambers. As we approached, I noticed the basketball handle's injuries on his face, a grim reminder of the violence that had unfolded. The situation was deteriorating rapidly, and our next steps had to be meticulously planned to avoid further complications.

"What should we do?" I asked, my voice tinged with desperation.

Smart quickly assessed the situation. He searched the room, then headed to the kitchen. After a few minutes, he returned with a determined expression. "I have a solution," he said.

"What is it?" I pressed, anxiety evident in my tone.

"There's a furnace," Smart explained.

"But how do we get the body to the furnace?" I inquired, feeling the weight of the predicament.

"There's a trunk," Smart said, pointing.

We dragged the trunk out and tried to fit the body inside. Mr. Ress's legs were too long, so I bent them carefully until the body fit. With a collective effort, we managed to close the trunk. I grasped one of the handles, attempting to move it, but it remained stubbornly still. My strength waned, and my hands were slick with sweat.

My gang joined in, and with their help, we managed to open the door. Smart unlocked it, and I lifted the trunk onto my shoulder, fighting against its weight. My muscles ached, and the strap dug painfully into my palm. Navigating the hallway, I descended the stairs, every step a struggle.

In the kitchen, Smart noticed a hatchet and used it to break up the trunk's lid. We hauled the trunk over to the furnace, where I heaved it upright, struggling against its weight. Smart and I maneuvered the trunk into position, and he began pulling the body out and into the furnace.

I kept glancing around nervously. "Will there be enough coal to burn the body?" I asked, my voice trembling.

Smart stuffed the body into the furnace and covered it with coal. I pushed the lever to start the furnace, and we watched as the flames began to engulf the body.

Suddenly, Smart frowned. "People will smell this," he said. "The odor will attract the police."

He hurriedly searched the basement and found a large, grimy electric exhaust fan mounted high on the wall behind the furnace. He flicked the switch, and the fan roared to life, its blades spinning rapidly.

"There," Smart said, relieved. "The exhaust fan will suck the air out of the basement. The scent will be minimized."

We watched as the fan hummed, pulling the smoke and smell away. The immediate danger of discovery seemed to fade, though the weight of our actions hung heavily in the air. The furnace roared with life, and the exhaust fan worked tirelessly, leaving us to confront the uneasy silence of our own making.