Chapter 909:

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As soon as she stepped into her house, she pulled out her phone, opening her chat with Sanford with trembling fingers. Thinking about how he was always the one to soften first whenever they had an argument, she typed out a message. “Did you leave the country?”

Once the message was delivered, she just waited, eyes fixed on the glowing screen as though her stare alone could drag his reply out of thin air.

Minutes crawled by in agonizing slowness. Thirty full minutes slipped away with no message from Sanford.

Carlee forced herself to wait a little longer, clinging to the hope that he was simply busy, but more than ten additional minutes passed in silence. For three years, unless an emergency interrupted him, Sanford had never taken longer than ten minutes to respond to her. That unwavering pattern made the current situation strange.

Carlee had regretted parts of their confrontation the night before, the words flung in hurt and confusion, yet in this moment, what flooded through her was anger. With that burning mixture of frustration and worry, she scrolled through her contacts, found Sanford’s number, and pressed call.

“Hello, the number you have dialed is temporarily unavailable. Please try again later.”

𝗗іs𝘤𝗈𝗏𝖾r ոе𝘄 𝗌to𝗿іеs 𝗈𝘯 𝘨a𝗅𝗇𝗈v𝗲lѕ.c𝗈𝘮

The automated voice echoed into Carlee’s ear, and her expression shifted at the sound.

From midday until the sky dimmed into evening, she continued calling Sanford again and again, spacing her attempts by several minutes each time. Over a dozen calls failed to connect, each one deepening her dread.

Just as she prepared to attempt her twentieth call, her phone lit up with an incoming number she didn’t recognize.

After a brief moment of hesitation, she answered.

“Is this Miss Larson?”

“Yes, this is Carlee Larson. Who is speaking?”

“Hello, Miss Larson. My name is Kole Gibson.”

The name struck Carlee with surprise. She knew exactly who he was. Kole served as Paulina’s assistant.

“Mr. Gibson, is something the matter?”

“Miss Larson, could you come to Novaterra?” Before she could even respond, the urgency in his voice sharpened. “Mr. Chapman has been admitted to the hospital for acute alcohol poisoning. He keeps calling for you, so I contacted you on my own judgment.”

Through the phone line, Carlee could hear Sanford’s voice in the background, faint but unmistakably calling her name in slurred repetition.

Every ounce of anger she had felt earlier dissolved instantly, replaced by a crushing wave of concern.

She spoke without hesitation. “I’ll take the earliest flight to Novaterra. Please stay with him and make sure someone is taking good care of him until I arrive.”

“Of course, Miss Larson. Once you book your ticket, please send me the details so I can arrange for a driver to pick you up.”

“Alright.”

Ending the call, Carlee collected her passport and essential documents in a rush, leaving the house without bothering to pack a single piece of clothing.

On the road to the airport, her mind refused to settle. The words alcohol poisoning kept replaying in her thoughts, each repetition twisting her heart.

After wrestling with her anxiety, she made a call to Amelia.

“Carlee?” Amelia answered the call quickly.

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