Chapter 522

Chapter 522:

In his wheelchair, Ernest sat in quiet contemplation, his brows slightly furrowed. After a moment, he spoke. “Eric, that’s enough. You can let him go now.”

Lowering his gaze, he regarded the shaking man on the floor with cold disdain.

His voice was calm—but chilling.

“Listen carefully. If even one word you’ve said is a lie—I won’t take your life, but here, in Srixby, I have ways to make every single day a living hell for you.”

Without another glance, Ernest pressed a button on his wheelchair and turned away. “Quentin.”

“Yes.” Quentin immediately stepped forward, his movements crisp, professional. “I’ll send someone to Rayton Road right away.”

Rayton Road.

The intersection was eerily quiet—an isolated stretch with no signs of life.

If Hadley had gotten off here, there was no telling where she could have gone.

Quentin and Phillips had spent the entire night combing the area, leading searches in every possible direction. But nothing.

Eventually, dawn broke…

Eric hadn’t closed his eyes all night.

Sleep was impossible. After all, Hadley had been missing for almost 24 hours.

She had left without a coat, without her phone—without anything.

She had no family, no close friends in Srixby.

Where was she now? Alone? Freezing? Starving?

And worst of all—why was he still here, unharmed? Why wasn’t he the one suffering?

“Any news?” Nyla stood at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed, her face drawn with anxiety. “Where could she have gone?”

The report from Quentin and Phillips was grim. They had scoured every inch of Rayton Road. Still—nothing. No check-ins at hotels, inns, or hostels.

No sign of her at train stations, airports—not even a whisper in accident reports.

She had vanished. As if she had never existed.

Linda stepped into the room, attempting to soften the unbearable tension.

“Nyla, Ernest, Eric—breakfast is ready. You should eat.”

“How can I?” Nyla sighed, her voice heavy, her arms tightening around herself.

Linda placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I know you’re worried. We all are. But you can’t help Hadley if you’re running on empty.”

Her gaze shifted to Ernest, her tone turning more insistent. “And you—you’re still recovering. Skipping meals won’t help.”

Ernest hesitated, but then gave a short nod. “Alright.”

His eyes flicked toward Eric, who stood motionless, staring blankly at the floor. “You should eat too.”

“I’ll pass.” Eric’s voice was rough, barely above a whisper. “Grandma, Ernest—you should eat, but I can’t.”

“Eric…” Linda started, but then…

“Let him be.” Ernest’s voice cut through the room, calm yet absolute. “He’s the one in the wrong. Let him face the consequences.”

Linda stiffened. Ernest wasn’t just pitying Hadley, was he? He was taking her side.

Upstairs.

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.

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