Chapter 142

"Susan, wake up!"

Andrew Lucas lunged at the charred corpse like a madman, his trembling fingers gripping its left wrist.

"No... Susan's left pinky was already missing..."

But the left hand of this corpse was unrecognizable—not only was the pinky gone, but the entire palm had been crushed beyond recognition.

"Andrew! Let her go!"

Ethan Sullivan charged forward with reddened eyes, only to be blocked by Andrew's sudden sidestep. The man cradled the corpse tightly in his arms, as if it were the most precious treasure in the world.

Seeing his friend's shattered state, Ethan suddenly loosened his grip.

He knew better than anyone who Susan had never been able to forget.

"Susan, I order you to open your eyes!"

Only silence answered him.

Andrew looked down at the blackened body in his arms, his fingertips lightly brushing the face that could no longer be recognized.

His Susan had always cared about her appearance.

He remembered how she would spend ages in front of the mirror before every date. He used to tell her she was naturally beautiful, but she would pout and argue, "A woman dresses for the one she loves. I want you to always see the best version of me."

And now, this face...

A searing pain tore through Andrew's chest.

His Susan had always been afraid of pain.

Once, she nicked her finger while peeling an apple—such a tiny cut had made her sulk for hours. And now...

Whispers from bystanders echoed in his ears:

"The screams lasted a full half-hour..."

How much had she suffered?

The phone call...

Right, she had called him.

The fire must have already been out of control by then. She had been trying to ask for his help...

And what had he said?

He said, "Good riddance."

He said, "Go find a better life in your next one."

"Susan... wake up..."

Andrew felt as though he were already dead—so why did his heart still hurt this much?

"Are you two relatives of Miss Susan Thompson?"

Two uniformed men entered the room.

"We're from the Organ Donation Center. Miss Thompson signed an agreement with us before her passing..."

Andrew's head snapped up, his bloodshot eyes sending the men stumbling back three steps.

"She—she took an advance of 700,000 to pay for her child's surgery..."

One of them mustered the courage to hand over the contract.

The black-and-white text burned Andrew's eyes.

He snatched the document and tore it to shreds.

"Get out! No one takes her away!"

"Y-yes, Mr. Lucas..."

Recognizing him, the two men paled instantly.

"700,000, right?"

Andrew suddenly laughed, the sound hoarse like sandpaper scraping.

"I'll pay you double."

700,000...

For just 700,000, she hadn't even left herself whole in death?

When she had asked to borrow money from him, he had thought...

Andrew buried his face in the corpse's charred hair, his shoulders shaking violently.

So she had truly been out of options.