"Everything I did was by the book. Why should I apologize? You went to Disneyland with Henry—was that my idea? You kissed him, touched his thigh—did I force you to do that?"
"He used the wrong dosage of anesthesia and killed my daughters and you covered for him, deleted the surgery room footage. You two filthy dogs—go to hell and atone for your sins to my children!"
Irene gasped. "You’re insane… There’s no way to reason with you."
"Go to hell!" I roared and smashed the phone to the ground, stomping on it over and over.
A loud pounding came from the door.
The next second, a group of people broke it down.
"You son of a bitch! You're the scum who ruined the doctors and got innocent patients caught up in this! You worthless bastard—go die!"
They ripped at my clothes, slapped me across the face, kicked me in the gut.
I clutched the urn in my arms with all my strength. But someone tore it away from me.
"No!" I screamed, lunging forward to grab it back.
But I could only watch helplessly as the urn was smashed to the ground and my children's ashes scattered across the floor.
"You filthy mutt! So you care that much about your two unlucky kids? Fine, I'll scatter their ashes—let's see how it feels when someone destroys what you love! Let's see how you taste pain!"
My eyes burned red as I threw myself forward, but they grabbed me, yanked me back, dragging me away.
Just then, Irene walked in, holding Henry’s hand.
Seeing the chaos in the room, her first reaction… was to shield Henry.
She looked at me—covered in blood—with a complicated expression, her tone edged with urgency.
“Leo, stop being so stubborn! Just apologize and all of this will be over! They're doctors, they're patients’ families—just do what I say and everything will calm down!”
I spat out a mouthful of blood and roared, “Keep dreaming! I’ll never let you get away with this! I’ll make you regret it!”
Suddenly, the wail of police sirens pierced the air. A squad of officers stormed into the room.
“Unlawful entry, intentional assault—everyone, follow us to the station!”
The crowd cried out for help, “Dr. Wells, save us! Please!”
Irene immediately stepped forward, trying to shield them. “It’s a misunderstanding! A misunderstanding! I’m the homeowner and he’s my husband… This is just a family dispute!”
I staggered to my feet, leaning against the wall, shouting hoarsely to correct her. “She’s not my wife! We’re divorced!”
“I’m formally pressing charges! She maliciously instructed others to break into my home and commit assault! I will make every one of them pay the price!”
