Chapter 743
Chapter 743:
Bonita grew quiet, the weight of Fernanda’s words sinking in. “Don’t worry, I’ll update you the moment I find him,” Fernanda assured Bonita, her voice gentle. “He cares about you.”
Bonita’s eyes were swollen and red, but her lips barely moved as she gazed at Fernanda. After what felt like an eternity, she gave a slow nod. A heavy weight pressed on her chest. Neal was in pain, and she was powerless to help him.
She couldn’t stop the tears. It felt like she was doing nothing but weeping, utterly useless.
By the time Fernanda left Bonita’s dorm, the clock read just shy of one in the morning.
Sleep was nowhere on Fernanda’s mind, and she wasn’t planning to head straight back to her own dorm either.
Cristian’s car sat parked at the entrance. Upon spotting her, he quickly unlocked the doors.
“I need to see the man,” Fernanda said, her voice firm.
The man she was referring to was Neal’s father.
Cristian didn’t hesitate. “Let’s go then.”
Fernanda checked the time, her brow furrowing. “Isn’t it a little too late for this?”
Cristian gave a reassuring nod. “There’s always someone on duty. I figured you’d want to go, so I’ve already handled it.”
Fernanda raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “You took care of everything?”
“Of course,” Cristian chuckled lightly, his eyes meeting hers. “I know you well. You’d never let it slide.”
Fernanda’s lips curled into a soft smile, warmth spreading through her chest. He truly did know her inside and out.
As Cristian parked outside the police station, an officer was waiting for them, ready to guide them straight to the man. He was sitting alone in a room, half-asleep.
The moment the group entered, the man stirred awake.
Fernanda wasted no time. Her voice rang out with unnerving clarity, her words sharp and unyielding. “Tell me Neal’s address.”
𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗻 gⲁ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⩸ⅽ𝗈𝗺
The man stared at Fernanda with a dazed expression, then blurted out, “Are you Neal’s friend?”
Fernanda didn’t respond, her gaze steady and unreadable.
“Then can you save me?” His foggy eyes sparked with sudden hope as he stumbled toward her, desperation evident in his movements. But Cristian stepped forward, intercepting him before he could reach her. Cristian’s cold, penetrating glare cut through the man’s frazzled demeanor like a knife slicing through mist. The man recoiled, the weight of that icy gaze sending a shiver down his spine.
“Calm yourself,” Cristian said, his voice a low, commanding growl. “Answer the question clearly and truthfully.”
The man hesitated, then spoke in halting words. “I can’t remember the exact name of the community. I just recall the general area.” His brow furrowed in concentration. “It’s the last unit on the left after you enter, fifth floor, left-hand side. I can’t recall the unit number.” Fernanda silently took note of his fragmented directions.
.
.
.