Chasing My Pregnant Wife

Suddenly, a startled shout pierced the dry air.

"There's someone buried under the sand!"

Theodore heard the shout and rushed over like a madman. He stumbled several times along the way, but each time, he clawed his way back up. At last, he reached the spot the person had pointed out. A piece of fabric was poking out from beneath the sand.

Theodore's heart felt as though it was being gripped by an invisible hand. His gaze was filled with confusion and fear as waves of despair and anguish surged within him, drowning his soul.

With a thud, he fell to his knees and put his trembling hands into the sand. He frantically started scooping away the sand, his hands still shaking. He was overwhelmed by panic and dread. Every heap of sand being shoveled away felt like the ticking of an endless clock, tearing his heart into countless pieces.

"Mr. Spencer, please don't do this."

Two foreign men stepped forward, attempting to pull him back.

Theodore's hands were bloodied from digging. His fingers were covered in wounds and some of his nails had been torn off.

go of me!

a sudden burst of strength. He pushed the two strong men away and fell back to his knees, continuing to dig into the sand. His fingertips scraped against the grains, desperately searching for any glimmer of

use tools to dig. Please,

shouted, "You might hurt her! Step back-all of you,

at the ground, having lost all rationality. His bloodshot eyes looked as if they were about

around didn't

say. They had considered telling him that anyone buried would likely be a corpse by now, so it wouldn't matter if they might hurt her

the verge of

them donned gloves and began digging by hand as

they cleared away

emerged

to decompose, emitting a foul stench. A few w of the men lifted their hands to cover their noses, their faces

isn't

wasn't Rosalie but a thin, frail man.