Chapter 604

No matter how cruel life was, she had to fight to live.

For Liam Sullivan, she must survive.

Even if it meant letting him tear open this wound himself.

The storm raged, darkness shrouding the footbridge.

The streetlights cast a dim, swaying glow through the curtain of rain, like candles about to be snuffed out.

A damp, biting chill filled the air, seeping into every pore.

"Bring her down," Oliver Winston commanded, his voice cold and hard as iron beneath his large black umbrella.

Medical staff carefully lifted the wheelchair from the vehicle.

Vivian Bennett slumped within it, her face as pale as waterlogged paper.

Her once-bright eyes were now hollow and vacant, like two bottomless black pits.

She showed no expression, no reaction, like an exquisite yet lifeless porcelain doll.

The gale whipped raindrops against her face, yet not even her eyelashes fluttered.

Oliver signaled for Sophia Miller to push the wheelchair forward.

Through the rainy night, the small procession moved in silence, like a funeral march without sound.

Heading toward the place where the nightmare began.

"Vivian, do you remember this place?" Oliver's voice cut clearly through the rain, cold as a blade. "Do you remember this footbridge?"

Sophia's hands trembled violently.

Seeing the familiar scene, memories of that night flooded back.

Her entire body shook uncontrollably.

But she knew they had to do this.

Only by tearing the wound wide open, letting the blood flow anew, could they awaken her will to live.

Sophia clenched her teeth and continued pushing the wheelchair forward.

"That night, you and your cousin were humiliated at the party. You chased after her, and then—" Oliver paused, his voice turning colder. "You ran onto this bridge. You fell from here."

Vivian, who had been as still as a statue, suddenly twitched her fingers slightly.

Oliver's eyes sharpened.

He gave Sophia a meaningful look.

The wheelchair was pushed to the very edge of the footbridge, to the exact spot from which Vivian had fallen.

Vivian's body went rigid.

As if struck by an invisible force, she recoiled, her shoulders trembling violently.

Oliver immediately crouched down, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"Look at this place clearly," his voice was like ice-forged steel. "You fell from here. You lay here, covered in blood. Your child was lost right here. Do you remember now? Here, you lost the most important thing. The most precious person in your life. You watched that innocent little life vanish before your eyes. Are you content with that?"

Each word hammered into Vivian's mind like a heavy blow.

The rainy night, the familiar scene—it was as if she could see that tumbling figure again.

Lying in a pool of blood, desperately calling out that name.

And receiving no response.

Only the cold rain, and endless darkness.