"Phoebe, my heart hurts so much … "
That fragile expression stabbed Phoebe's heart like a dagger.
She immediately averted her gaze, frantically helping Jose to his feet. "Hans, hold on a moment. I'll call an ambulance," she said.
That woman's back was thin, her legs trembling wildly as she carried the heavy load. Even so, she never considered abandoning Jose.
I clenched the fragments of the tombstone in my palm tightly.
As my consciousness faded, I seemed to see my mom and dad smiling at me with understanding. "Hans, Mom and Dad don't blame you."
But I couldn't forgive myself.
When I woke up again, I saw a clean white ceiling. Phoebe was sitting by the hospital bed, her face utterly pale, with large dark circles under her eyes.
The moment she saw me open my eyes, she happily squeezed my hand. "Hans, does your body still hurt?"
I painfully removed the needle from the back of my hand, forcing myself to sit up and kneeling at Phoebe's feet. "I'm sorry, Madam, I didn't take good care of myself. I can go home now. Mr. Levine and the baby need me."
Phoebe tenderly stroked my reopened, bleeding wound, her fingers trembling uncontrollably. When she reached out in despair, I instinctively covered my head.
"Hans, how did you become like this?" she sobbed.
I lowered my eyes and remained silent.
An eerie silence fell over the hospital room until Phoebe's frantic phone ringing finally broke the tension.
Jose's anxious shouts came through the speakerphone, accompanied by the piercing cries of a baby. "Phoebe, the baby keeps crying. I haven't slept well for days. Can you please get Hans back? I'm so annoyed!"
Before Phoebe could answer, I was already removing the hospital gown. The scars covering my body were exposed to her view and her eyes reddened as if stung by something.
The phone was abruptly hung up.
Phoebe's voice was terribly hoarse as she spoke. "Hans, where did these injuries come from?"
I quietly put on my regular clothes and signaled for her to handle my discharge. "Madam, my duty is to take care of Mr. Levine and the baby. Please take me home."
Her shoulders shook violently. Losing control, she cupped my face and growled in a low voice, "Hans, what exactly have they done to you?"
I returned her question with a polite smile. "Madam, they were simply following your instructions, teaching me how to serve Mr. Levine and the baby properly."
I watched as all the color drained from Phoebe's face, her lips trembling wildly. "But ... I only wanted you to be a little more obedient. I didn't … "
The phone rang again and I urged Phoebe to go home. At the same time, a doctor outside the door secretly gave me a thumb-up.
Back at the villa, Jose snapped irritably at Phoebe.
I took the crying baby from that man and gently patted his tiny back. He seemed to recognize my scent and gradually calmed down.
Jose instantly sensed something was wrong and gestured for me to return to the nursery. Without his permission, I couldn't leave that cramped room.
That night, suppressed, heavy breathing came from next door. "Phoebe, do you miss me? My body misses you so much … I want you so badly."
Phoebe seemed to be deliberately suppressing her ragged breaths, not wanting anyone to hear. Yet Jose panted rapidly, as if he wanted the whole world to know he was making love to her.
I quietly pushed open the window, letting the wind blow away the remaining sleeping pill powder.
At that very moment, my phone suddenly lit up. A new message popped up in the notification bar. [The ladder is ready. Come down quickly with the child.]
I scooped up the sleeping child into my arms, then pried out the USB drive hidden beneath the floorboards under the bed.
In the thick darkness of night, I climbed into the passenger seat of that person's car and we sped straight to the airport.
