Chapter 787
Chapter 787:
Rosita gave a firm nod. “Understood.”
Previous reports had painted Neal as a villain, accusing him of funding his father’s addiction. Now, with the truth in hand, they had the power to set the record straight.
Bright Lights Media had built its reputation on one principle—uncompromising truth. No cheap rumors, no fabricated drama, just facts. Because of this, their readership had grown to trust them implicitly.
They believed that Bright Lights Media’s reports were authentic and trustworthy.
Fernanda, meanwhile, headed straight to Beckett.
At this point, Beckett appeared disheveled and depressed. But he suddenly became alert and energized again when he spotted Fernanda.
“I already knew you’d been snooping around Neal’s hometown,” Fernanda said, reclining in her chair, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. “You looked for his father. And let me guess—his sudden appearance at the final match wasn’t a coincidence? What about before that? The kidnapping attempt on Bonita, where you conveniently swooped in as the hero? That was your doing, too, wasn’t it?”
She believed in chance, but there was such a thing as too much coincidence. And when something was too convenient, it reeked of design.
Beckett clenched his jaw. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Deny it all you want. I can just ask Neal’s father myself.” She tilted her head, watching him carefully. “I wonder if he’ll be as tight-lipped as you.”
Beckett’s glare was so sharp it could slice through iron, his fury simmering like molten lava beneath a fragile crust.
Fernanda remained composed and unfazed. The state of Beckett did not intimidate her.
Just then, the door creaked open, and a police officer strode in, murmuring something to his colleague.
The officer turned to Fernanda and spoke in a steady tone. “Ms. Morgan, your visit time is almost up. His parents have arrived.”
𝘼𝙧𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙠: gⲁ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⸰𝙘𝙤𝙢
At those words, Beckett sprang to his feet like a coiled spring snapping loose. “Hey! I want to see my parents!”
Fernanda barely spared him a glance, her lips curling into a knowing smile. “What is the rush?” Her voice was smooth, almost amused. “Your diagnosis has not been finalized yet. You are not allowed to see them.”
His temper flared instantly, like a torch tossed into dry brush. “What right do you have to stop me!” he bellowed, slamming his hands on the table with such force that the impact echoed through the room. “I want to see my parents!”
Fernanda did not even flinch. She turned to the officer beside her, speaking in a calm, measured tone. “Officer, as you are aware, his diagnosis has not yet been confirmed. Should he be allowed visitors? Given how… unique his condition is, I imagine you would not want an outburst complicating your case.”
Beckett was like a caged beast rattling the bars, his fury untamed. “Fernanda, stop spewing your nonsense! You are not the one making the rules! Am I not even allowed to see my parents?”
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