Chapter 5 Tethered Hearts and Shattered Wings

Not all humans in the world can have the same heart and behavior. While Richard was being doused with petrol, a young girl, filled with deep compassion, ran to a nearby phone booth. Her heart raced as she dialed the police, her voice trembling with urgency.

"What location is that?"

"It's right near Roselia Pendragon Stadium."

With her call made, the officers quickly jumped into their vehicle, and the engine roared to life as they sped toward the location. When they arrived, they saw a crowd gathered in the distance. But at first, there was no clear sight of the situation. The officers exchanged looks, unsure of what to do.

"Sir, I think it's over there," one of the officers said, pointing in the direction of a small crowd.

"Where those two people are lying on the ground!" Another officer, who wore two stripes on his shoulder, added with urgency, cutting the car sharply to reach the scene.

A girl came running toward them, her face pale with panic.

"Officer, I'm the one who made the call!"

"Miss, what happened to these two?"

"This young man was beaten by angry citizens after they saw him choking this girl! But he claimed he was trying to save her because she had swallowed chloroquine tablets in a suicide attempt!"

Without wasting any more time, the officers loaded the two victims into their vehicle and rushed toward Queen Margaret Hospital. Upon arrival, the staff quickly took charge. Richard was rushed to the operating room, while Cynthia was taken to the intensive care unit. The medical team immediately began pumping her stomach and administering IV fluids to counteract the effects of the poison in her bloodstream.

---

"Oh my God! Is this Cynthia?" one of the nurses gasped as she examined the girl's face.

"Which Cynthia?"

"The daughter of Professor Gulu Achanakya, known for her beauty all over Portmore!"

"Let's call her family immediately and inform them!"

Meanwhile, Richard was brought back from surgery, his body now covered in stitches. Blood bags and IV fluids were connected to his veins. A nurse who had been observing him carefully paused, her eyes widening.

"Oh! So he's also Judge Eli's son?" she muttered to herself as she recognized him.

As soon as the families were notified, the hospital was quickly filled with relatives and friends. Within an hour, the news had spread to Pendragon Secondary School, where many students, eager to see Cynthia, rushed to the hospital. But there was one person who didn't show up. Larry. He remained strangely unaffected by the news.

As the students read the letter Larry had written to Cynthia, blame was swiftly cast upon him. The police weren't far behind in accusing him. Later that evening, he was arrested at school, questioned, and eventually placed in custody for allegedly inciting Cynthia's suicide attempt.

---

Larry felt a weight of guilt that consumed him. Deep down, he still loved Cynthia, but he feared the disapproval of his mother and his classmates who would never accept his relationship with her.

Meanwhile, Dr. Regina and her husband were devastated. They couldn't fathom why their daughter had attempted to end her life. They blamed Larry entirely, believing his letter had been the catalyst. They were certain that he had lured their daughter into a relationship that led to this dark place.

"Maybe she'll recover, but if she dies... I don't know what I'll do!" Cynthia's father exclaimed, his voice filled with anguish as he paced the hospital corridors.

---

Forty-eight hours later, Cynthia's dangerously low heartbeat began to slowly stabilize. She opened her eyes to find her parents by her side, their faces filled with relief. The tears in her eyes blurred their figures, but she could hear their voices clearly.

"Why did you save me? I want to die! Leave me alone. I don't want to live anymore!" Cynthia sobbed as she tried to tear the IV drip from her arm. Though weak, she attempted to get out of bed, but her parents quickly restrained her, urging her to lie back down.

"Please forgive him, my child. Your life is more valuable than Larry. Think about us. You're our only child. Please don't give up!" her mother pleaded, her voice breaking.

Cynthia continued to cry bitterly, unable to comprehend the worth of life anymore. She felt that her beauty, the one thing she was known for, no longer mattered. Larry's actions had shattered her heart in ways she never imagined.

"Because of Larry, I've caused an innocent person's death!" she whispered, her voice filled with despair.

"Who?" her mother asked, her voice soft with concern.

Cynthia then recounted everything-how Richard had been attacked by the angry crowd who thought he was a thief, and how her own actions had led to this disaster.

"Ahh, the judge's son," her father said softly. "His father came here yesterday to check on you. He said his son is slowly recovering. He's deeply saddened by everything that happened."

Cynthia, her voice trembling, asked, "Will he recover, Mom?"

"His father says there is hope," her mother replied, offering a small, hopeful smile.

"Mom, please take me to him right now. I need to apologize. I've wronged him terribly!" Cynthia begged.

But her parents refused. Cynthia gave in, staying in bed for three more weeks, receiving treatment and slowly recovering.

---

On the first day of the fourth week, as Cynthia lay in her hospital bed, a shadow filled the doorway. She glanced up, startled to see a tall, slender young man standing there. His face was heavily bandaged, and his right arm was in a cast. It was Richard.

The young man limped slowly toward Cynthia's hospital bed, each step heavy with pain and memory. Cynthia, startled by his presence, lifted her gaze. The moment her eyes met his, recognition flashed within them-it was him. The same young man she had spent her last day with.

Without a word, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, her feet light on the cold hospital floor. She walked toward him hesitantly. When she reached him, she gently took his hand in hers and began to apologize, her voice trembling.

"I forgave you the day it all happened, Cynthia," he said, his voice low but sincere. "One thing I want you to know is that, despite everything, I still love you. And my love is true. Please, give me a chance to be your boyfriend."

"That's not possible, Richard. I'm afraid," Cynthia replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She let go of his hand and turned, retreating slowly back to her bed.

"What are you afraid of?" he asked, following her with his eyes, confusion and hurt clouding his face.

"I can't tell you," she said, her back turned. "But that fear... that's what made me want to take my own life. You'll never understand, Richard."

"Why?" he pleaded. "Then at least give me a reason that makes sense!"

"I can't say," she whispered, sinking down into the sheets.

Two weeks passed, and both were discharged from the hospital. Their bodies had healed, but something in Cynthia's soul remained deeply bruised. Still, she and Richard stayed close-bonded by pain, by memory, and something neither dared to define.

Motivated by a lingering affection, Cynthia begged her father to release Larry from custody. It wasn't easy. Her father resisted, reminding her of what Larry had done, but her persistence wore him down. In the end, he gave in.

But peace didn't follow Larry's release. Life in Portmore became unbearable for Cynthia. She withered quietly-losing weight, sinking into a fog of thought and regret. Her heart clung to Larry like a wounded bird returning to the hand that broke its wing.

She called him often, desperate for a second chance, but each time he rejected her. He wouldn't even pick up.

"If Cynthia isn't removed from Portmore," the psychologist at Queen Margaret Hospital warned, "the emotional pressure will destroy her."

Dr. Regina and her husband, Gulu Achanakya, did not need much convincing. They agreed quickly. Cynthia had to leave. She was transferred to Kingston to live with her aunt. The move was urgent, not just for her well-being, but so she could resume her education at Wolmer's girls school.

---

Bang!

A deafening crash shattered the stillness at a busy intersection in Kingston. Two cars collided head-on with a force that echoed across the block.

A girl-tall, poised, and stunning-had been walking by the roadside, headed toward the Wolmer's Girls secondary school. Unknowingly, it was her presence that had triggered the chaos. The drivers, captivated by the way she moved, by the elegance of each step, had lost their focus. And in that moment of awe, the crash became inevitable.

Cynthia's beauty stirred the city of Kingston in ways no one expected. It was a sprawling city, vast and busy, but somehow, her arrival did not go unnoticed. Her name spread like wildfire. She became a whisper in the streets, a murmur in classrooms, a rumor in the staffroom.

Male teachers at the school found themselves distracted by her presence. Her elegance, her calm, her eyes filled with hidden stories-they were all captivated.

But Cynthia felt nothing for them. If anything, their attention repulsed her. She was tired-tired of men, tired of wounds disguised as love. The betrayal by Larry had cut deep, and the wound had never truly closed.

She made a silent vow to herself: never again. Never would she allow her heart to be touched by love. Not from any man.

Still, despite the resolve in her mind, her heart remained tethered to the one who had hurt her the most. Larry. She thought of him often, sometimes unwillingly. There was a corner of her soul that still belonged to him. A quiet, stubborn piece of her heart believed that if he ever returned-if he stood before her and asked again-she would say yes.

Beyond Larry, she wanted no other man. And no matter how far she ran, his memory always found her.