Chapter 612

Chapter 612:

“That’s strange,” Waylon muttered, glancing at his watch. “He’s never late. He’s always the most punctual of all of us.” Minutes passed, and the tension grew with each tick of the clock. Waylon’s unease deepened, his brow furrowing as he exchanged concerned glances with the others.

Madisyn, who had been engrossed in her phone, looked up with a serious expression. “I’m afraid something might have happened to the captain,” she announced.

“What? The HB Club is falling apart. How could something happen to our captain now?” Waylon’s voice broke through the tense silence, his frustration clear as he ran a hand through his hair.

Madisyn looked up from her phone, her expression serious. “I checked his location. He’s at his hometown. Something might be wrong with his family.”

Just as she spoke, Waylon’s phone buzzed sharply. The captain’s name flashed on the screen. His heart raced as he answered.

“I’m so sorry, everyone.” The captain’s voice trembled, heavy with emotion. “My mom collapsed last night, and I’m the only one who can take care of her.” He hesitated, trying to steady himself. “I know the competition is coming up, and you might be upset with me for this, but… I have to go.”

The air felt thick with his struggle, the weight of his decision palpable.

Waylon felt a deep ache in his chest but spoke softly. “There will be other competitions, but you only get one mother. Take care of her.”

The captain let out a quiet sigh of relief, but before anyone could respond, his voice erupted with alarm. “Oh my God!” Waylon tensed. “What’s going on?”

“That person… that person is…” The captain stammered, utterly stunned, struggling to find the right words.

The captain steadied his hand, aiming his phone down the hospital hallway at a figure in the distance. Waylon leaned in, squinting at the screen, then froze in disbelief.

“Wait… is that Zahir?!”

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Zahir was supposed to be dead. Could it be he’d merely been missing all this time?

Madisyn and Andrew edged closer, their curiosity piqued. Andrew’s expression tightened as he recognized the man, his hands balling into fists at his sides, knuckles turning pale. Waylon instinctively moved the phone nearer to Andrew, eager to share in the moment.

On the screen, the captain cautiously approached Zahir, each step measured and deliberate. He reached out and gently tapped Zahir on the shoulder. When the man turned around, his face came into full view. It was unmistakably Zahir—alive.

“Who are you?” Zahir asked, his voice cold and distant. The captain’s excitement overflowed, words tumbling out. “Zahir… you…”

“Zahir?” The man’s brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. “Is that who you think I am?”

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