No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

With a hefty thud, the world around us came to an abrupt halt, plunging into an eerie silence so profound it felt as if life itself had paused.

It took me a moment to gather my senses and realize I was still among the living. Trying to move, I found myself immobilized.

Pushing with a bit more effort, I heard a muffled grunt, "Stop...moving..."

My world remained engulfed in darkness, not the absence of light, but because my eyes were still covered.

"Conrad," I called out.

"I'm here," came Conrad's faint response, right in front of me.

"Get off me, I can't move," I said, not even realizing he might be hurt; I just wanted to free myself.All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

Conrad shifted, allowing me to move my face out of his embrace. As soon as I did, the grim reality hit me - the twisted wreckage of the car, the driver bleeding and motionless.

Panicked, I cried out, "Conrad, Conrad..."

Rushing to check on him, my heart sank as I saw his face covered in blood.

This was bad. Both Conrad and the driver were hurt, and I wasn't even sure if I was injured because Conrad was pinning me down, trapped by the crushed car.

But sitting idle wasn't an option; it would put us all in danger.

"Conrad, try to bear with it. Take a deep breath, try to make yourself smaller so I can get out," I instructed.

He did as told, yet freeing myself from underneath him wasn't easy. I kept asking him to breathe in and make himself smaller.

After numerous attempts, I was almost out, but Conrad's face had turned a ghastly shade of pale.

I knew my escape was achieved through his immense pain.

As I looked at his bloodied face, searching for something to clean it with, he grabbed my arm, "Call the police first."

"No, call Ernest," he corrected himself.

I understood his concern; he feared the police might be in league with the people from Club Q, especially since we had been targeted so soon after leaving the station.

But where was my phone?

I couldn't find it anywhere, likely lost during the car's tumble. And with the car now deformed, searching was futile. "Is your phone still with you?" I asked Conrad.

He was just as clueless and stuck as

I was, writhing in pain. My only option was to search his pockets. Finding nothing in his shirt, I moved to his pants, cautiously reaching in without touching anything inappropriate. Fortunately, found Conrad's phone quickly.

I immediately dialed Ernest's number, but before the call connected, I spotted a helicopter circling overhead.

It had to be the assailants, checking if their job was done. Thankfully, the car's tinted windows offered some protection, but fearing discovery and that they might return to ensure we didn't get help, I dared not make any sudden moves. Even when Ernest answered, I couldn't respond.

"Mr. Wagner, why aren't you speaking? Is Licia alright? Is there any news about Jefferson?" Ernest's voice grew anxious on the other end.

As the helicopter continued its surveillance, I remained silent, listening to Ernest's voice through the receiver.

Finally, the helicopter left, and I could speak, "Ernest, it's me."

Tears welled up as I spoke, my voice trembling, "We've had an accident!"

"Are you hurt?" Ernest's concern shifted to me immediately.

"I'm not sure. The car's trapped both Conrad and the driver; there's so much blood," I replied, glancing at the driver.