Amber heard Jameson clearly but felt torn between her mind and body. She couldn't utter a response.

"Go. Now," Jameson urged, his gaze turning icy.

A shiver wracked Amber as she rose, her dress clinging uncomfortably to her cold sweat. She was alive, but she felt as if she had died over and over again.

She walked toward Wesley; a few steps felt like a lifetime.

Wesley's hands were bound, so he used his head to prop himself up. He swayed as he kneeled before her.

He had known he would die the moment he was captured. However, he wasn't resigned to a meaningless death; he wanted to die with dignity.

Carl approached and took Amber's cold hand, placing a gun in it and forcing her fingers to grip the handle. Despite the blood covering his face, Wesley offered her a wan smile, a gesture meant to comfort Amber.

in Amber's eyes as she squeezed

her

his right eye. No one else

jolt of understanding shot through Amber-Wesley was sending her

trembling fingertips against her side, matching the rhythm of Wesley's blinks, committing his

Don't keep Mr. Schmidt waiting." Carl looked at

slowly raised her arm and aimed the gun at Wesley. She panted heavily, on the verge of tears, unable to pull the trigger. In that

on Amber, Wesley suddenly got up from the ground and pushed Amber aside with all

Jameson like an angered lion. Wesley acted so fast that none of Jameson's underlings could react in time. However, these underlings were professionally trained. They shouldn't have been this slow to react-including Carl. They had been

as he fiercely bit

panicked and was unsure what to

he aimed his gun

hold it in anymore.

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