I closed my eyes, refusing to look at him, silently praying in my heart.
'Let this end quickly.'
The current intensified, and my body was on the edge of collapse.
Just as I thought I couldn’t bear it any longer, a sharp adrenaline shot was thrust into my veins.
My numb body suddenly came to life.
The pain that followed felt like being crushed by a steamroller.
Cold sweat soaked through the sheets of the hospital bed.
Zachary stood there, cold and indifferent, watching as I suffered, his eyes fixated on finding the truth from years ago and seeking justice for Zoey.
"Joanne," he said, his tone flat, “you brought this on yourself. You’ve kept Zoey from resting all these years. This is what you owe her."
Finally, in the last second, the screen flickered and began to play again.
In the dimly lit underground room, I curled up in a corner, my body trembling.
Suddenly, the door was kicked open.
A group of men entered, and the last to walk in was Zachary.
“So you really won’t talk?” he asked, his voice cold as ice. “They’ve all got something wrong with them, one way or another. I’m giving you one last chance.”
I shook my head desperately, tears streaming down my face.
"No, no, it’s not like that. I really can’t say. Zach, you have to believe me. I have my reasons."
Zachary stepped forward, his fingers tightening around my chin.
"What reason could be more important than Zoey’s life? Tell me!" he demanded.
When I didn’t answer, his expression turned cold.
"Fine. Since you refuse to speak, I’ll let them... take care of you."
Zachary turned and left, leaving me with the group of disgusting men.
No matter how much I cried or screamed, he didn’t look back.
They tore at my clothes. Their foul breath and drool stuck to my skin. My wrists were tied, and there was no fighting back, no escape.
Since our marriage, Zachary had never physically touched me. Instead, he had allowed these vile men he invited into our home to do so.
He hired people to watch over me, terrified I might try to end my life. He wanted me to slowly perish from the torment.
The audience below was divided.
One side cursed me, saying I deserved this, while the other condemned Zachary’s actions as a violation of the law.
The room was filled with chaotic uproar.
Zachary only sneered. "So you still care about your purity now? Did you ever think about how desperate Zoey was back then? Did you ever care about her dignity?! If you had spoken up earlier, would Zoey have killed herself?!"
I bit my lip, holding back the pain that threatened to escape, my heart consumed by despair.
“I… I can’t tell you,” I said again, my voice trembling but firm.
A faint, twisted smile tugged at Zachary’s lips, as if my suffering brought him some dark pleasure.
“You’re still such a fool,” he muttered, his voice thick with disdain. “Do you really think staying silent will save you now?”
Zachary then signaled to the doctor.
The current surged once more. My body convulsed violently from the pain, but I still didn’t break.
"You... you can’t do this to me. You’ll regret it," I managed to croak, the words barely escaping my lips.
"You should be the one regretting," Zachary said.
He then turned and strode toward the control console.
"Increase the power to the maximum, no matter the consequences."
"Mr. Mitchell, she... she could die at this intensity if we continue..."
"Didn't you hear me?!" Zachary’s shout rang through the room, instantly silencing everyone.
A man who became the wealthiest person in Springfield at such a young age had an intimidating presence—one that no one could overlook.
The doctor wiped cold sweat from his forehead, reluctantly adjusting the power to its highest setting.
The giant screen didn’t stop for the interruption; the footage kept playing, complex and jagged, until it froze on a new scene.
In the image, I was walking through the grass in the same abandoned park.
My voice echoed softly, muttering to myself.
It looked like it was just before dusk.
"Strange... I remember walking down this path, but why can't I find it?"
The girl in the scene looked downward, as if she were searching for something on the ground.
Suddenly, a rustling sound beside her made her look up in a flash. In that brief instant, a young man appeared in the frame—his long hair flowing, clad in a black leather jacket.
