Rising from the Ashes The Heiress They Tried to Erase Novel

Chapter 1092 Chapter 1093: Inside the Morgan household's villa. Jarrod had just placed a call, discovering his parents were absent. Yet the instant the words came through the line, his expression turned deathly pale. It felt as though his entire world had shattered that very moment. "What rubbish are you saying? How could my parents drive off a cliff? Why would they have gone anywhere like that?" Jarrod's tone shook, his heart refusing to accept what he was told. "Settle down, boy! Listen. Get yourself to Wront's Erygan Hospital right away.

The rest you'll need to hear from them after they awaken!" the other speaker snapped with impatience, laced with irritation, then disconnected, leaving only the flat tones of the call's end. Jarrod stood frozen for a few seconds before suddenly springing up from the sofa. He rushed upstairs, digging through drawers for keys, then dashed out the entrance. With the household funds exhausted and the chauffeur long dismissed, he had no choice but to drive an aging Mercedes toward Erygan on his own. The car wheels screeched against the gravel drive before the villa. "Mom, Dad...

please be safe!" Jarrod implored as he clenched the steering wheel, aware that if his parents perished, he would be completely alone. The storm persisted, droplets fine as threads striking against the car glass, all throughout the... Throughout the journey, Jarrod's mind echoed the man's command from the call: "The rest you'll need to hear from them after they awaken!" That faint possibility was the only thread holding him together. Although his parents had suffered calamity, they had not yet been claimed by death.

That notion of hope lifted Jarrod, who could not face a life devoid of his parents. "Almighty, let them endure... Mother, Father, hold on!" On the drive to Erygan Hospital, the storm ripped through the sky as if the heavens themselves had split open, soaking everything in its path. Find your favorite stories at g Ɐ ln σ ν s., conn Behind the wheel of his battered Mercedes, Jarrod pressed harder on the gas, forcing the car along the twisting lanes near the city's edge. The wipers clawed across the glass, yet the downpour still blinded his view.

Sweat gathered in his hands, and the windows clouded until his own strained reflection became nothing more than a shadow. His thoughts spun wildly, each one striking harder than the last. The news of his parents' accident clung to him like a nightmare that would not release its hold. "Why did it have to happen? Why were they out before sunrise? They never leave the house that early..." Jarrod whispered, urging the car to go faster while memories of their odd behavior gnawed at him.

They had spoken in hushed tones, dodged phone calls whenever he was nearby, and their eyes kept darting toward his bedroom as if hiding something from him. At first, he had convinced himself it was only money troubles, yet the truth now hinted at something far deeper. . . .