19. Escapes

Lady Sachel sat in her lavishly decorated drawing room, sipping tea from a delicate porcelain cup. Her face was composed, serene even, as the afternoon sunlight streamed through the large windows. Her assistant, Juna, stood quietly nearby, waiting for the right moment to deliver the news she had been holding onto for the past hour.

"My Lady," Juna finally spoke, her voice low and careful, "I have received word that the person Young Master Ethan loves has arrived in the country."

Lady Sachel's hand froze mid-air, the cup hovering just before her lips. Her eyes, sharp as ever, flicked up to meet Juna's. "Has arrived?"

Juna nodded. "Yes, my Lady. They wish to meet Ethan."

For a moment, Lady Sachel's expression softened into what could have been mistaken for joy, but only someone who truly knew her could see the subtle tension that lingered at the corners of her mouth. She set the cup down gently, the porcelain making a soft clink against the saucer.

"Tell that person to wait," Lady Sachel said with a cold smile, her fingers trailing lazily over the rim of the cup. "I don't want them disturbing Ethan just yet. There are still… a few things that need to be dealt with."

Juna hesitated, sensing the gravity behind her Lady's words. "Of course, my Lady. I will ensure they are kept away."

Lady Sachel leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing in thought. A moment later, she whispered to herself, though her voice was still audible to Juna, "It's time for Ethan's wife to disappear. Permanently."

The calmness in her tone was chilling. Juna's face remained neutral, but she felt a shiver run down her spine. She nodded once and left the room quietly, already knowing what needed to be done.

----

Meanwhile, back in the hospital, Adrian sat by Ethan's bedside, as he had for days now.

"Adrian," came the familiar voice of Ethan, though it was still strange to hear it without seeing Ethan move.

Adrian looked up, his silver eyes meeting the faint, translucent form of Ethan's soul standing near the window.

"You need to get out," Ethan said, his tone gentle but firm. "Go for a walk. Get some fresh air. You've been cooped up in here for too long."

Adrian shook his head. "But… what if something happens? What if—"

"Adrian," Ethan interrupted, a soft chuckle in his voice. "I'm not going anywhere. You, on the other hand, need to take care of yourself. It's just a walk outside. Trust me, you'll feel better."

Adrian hesitated for a moment longer, but Ethan's expression—though ethereal—was warm, encouraging.

"Okay," Adrian finally relented, standing up slowly. His body still felt weak from the recent fever, but he figured a little sunshine wouldn't hurt. "I'll just go out for a bit. I need to get a few things anyway."

Ethan's smile grew wider. "Good. I'll be here when you get back."

Adrian smiled back, a small, reluctant smile, and headed for the door. He felt a bit uneasy leaving Ethan, but Ethan was right—he needed to get out, even if just for a short while.

--

The streets outside the hospital were bustling with people going about their daily lives, a stark contrast to the quiet tension that filled Adrian's world inside the hospital. He took a deep breath, feeling the warm sunlight on his skin, and for a moment, the weight on his shoulders seemed to lighten.

He walked toward a small convenience store not far from the hospital, his mind wandering as he thought about Ethan, about their strange connection, and about the future that seemed so uncertain. He was lost in thought when he noticed a group of men standing ahead, scattered casually along the sidewalk. They didn't seem to be doing anything in particular, but something about their stance made Adrian's instincts tingle with unease.

He slowed his pace, trying to shake off the feeling. Maybe they were just lingering there, waiting for something or someone. But as he got closer, he noticed two more men stepping out from a nearby alley, blocking the way behind him.

His heart began to race.

"Hey, kid," one of the men from the front called out, his voice rough. He was holding a metal bat casually over his shoulder, tapping it rhythmically. "You lost?"

Adrian froze, his eyes darting around. The men were slowly closing in from both sides, and it didn't take a genius to realize that they weren't just there by coincidence.

"Shit," Adrian whispered under his breath, feeling his pulse quicken. His mind raced—should he try to reason with them? Or should he just run?

Before he could decide, one of the men from behind barked an order. "Get him!"

Without another thought, Adrian turned and bolted.

His legs, still weak from his illness, struggled to move as fast as he wanted, but adrenaline pushed him forward. He heard the sound of footsteps pounding behind him, and the men's voices shouting to one another as they gave chase. Panic surged through Adrian's veins, and he pushed himself harder, weaving through the streets, dodging pedestrians, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Don't let him get away!" the leader of the gang shouted.

Adrian's heart hammered in his chest as he rounded a corner, his eyes scanning for any possible escape. But the streets seemed endless, and the men were closing in fast.

His lungs burned, his muscles screamed, but he couldn't stop. Not now. Not with them so close.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw an alley that led down toward the riverbank. It was narrow and steep, but it was his only chance. He veered sharply, sprinting toward it with everything he had left. Behind him, the men cursed and followed.

Adrian's feet stumbled as he hit the uneven ground, his momentum carrying him forward too quickly. He tripped, tumbling down the slope, his body crashing painfully against the gravel before he rolled to a stop at the river's edge.

The world spun around him, his body throbbing with pain as he struggled to get up. His vision blurred as he saw the gang approaching, their expressions filled with cruel satisfaction.

"No escape now, pretty boy," one of them sneered, gripping a rod tightly in his hand. "You're cornered."

Adrian's chest heaved, his breath shallow and desperate. He looked toward the river, the dark water swirling just a few feet away. It was cold, dangerous, but it was the only way out.

For a brief moment, Adrian's thoughts raced. He could call for help, but what good would it do? No one would reach him in time. And if he fought back… he didn't stand a chance.

His eyes flicked back to the gang, their weapons raised, ready to strike. And then, with a burst of cold resignation, he made his choice.

Before they could reach him, Adrian took a deep breath and threw himself into the river.

The icy water engulfed him instantly, dragging him under as the current pulled him away from the shore. His limbs flailed instinctively, but the exhaustion from the chase and the chill of the water sapped his strength quickly.

Above him, he could see the blurry shapes of the men standing at the river's edge, their shouts faint and distant. They weren't going to follow him in—they were too afraid of the current. But that didn't matter. Adrian was sinking, the weight of his clothes dragging him deeper.

His lungs burned as he tried to hold his breath, but the panic made it impossible. The cold water numbed his skin, and he could feel the river pulling him further and further away from the surface.

He wanted to scream, to call for help, but he knew it was pointless. No one could save him now. Not even Ethan.

His vision began to darken, his body too weak to fight any longer. In that moment of utter despair, Adrian let go. He closed his eyes, allowing the water to claim him, and let himself sink into the dark, icy depths.

At the hospital, Ethan, still bound to his soul form, was pacing near the window of his room when he felt a sudden, sharp pain shoot through his chest.

"Adrian…" he whispered, his voice strained with panic.

Something was wrong.