The Runaway Groom

Chapter 438

Nonetheless, James hurried to Isaac’s side. “Sir.”

Isaac glanced at him briefly and asked, “Did you find a place?”

“Yes, sir,” James replied. “We can use it in a couple days.”

“Good.” Isaac remained impassive.

At the same time, James turned toward the man with them, who was dressed formally over his exceedingly fair skin. Also, there was something shady about that face even though he clearly appeared solemn.

“Sir, who is this gentleman?”

Isaac did not answer, and instead headed straight inside the operating room with the man.

James followed, curious.

The man first put down his box and opened it, taking out a pair of gloves and wearing it before pulling off the sheet placed over Irene’s head.

He frowned when he saw the face. “…I don’t think I can do anything here. Burn scars only regenerate on living tissue, but if she’s dead, I can’t restore her face.”

In reality, he was the best mortician Isaac had found to reconstruct cadavers so that they would look their best before they were buried.

Despite his specialty in reinvigorating cold bodies and bestowing upon them eternal beauty, he was shaking his head. “The damage is too extensive. I can’t do much here.”

a brief flash

not even die with the way she looked

was when the mortician said, “I’d suggest moving

had been trying to say the same thing for a while, so he quickly echoed, “Yeah, or we could put her in an ice casket if

and they would just put the ice casket inside

here

not as if Isaac did

would lose whatever fantasy he had been

send her to the morgue was a

refused to

it may, present circumstances prevented him from lying

inaudible, “Get it done, James. Now

could not restore Irene’s

and mortician left, however, Isaac’s back

was no longer the high–and–mighty bigwig who faced his own family’s abandonment

vulnerable, for it turned out that he

was profound,

He also applied a special powder that would stall putrefaction before they

Ricky

the floor when he saw the unrecognizable body. “No. No way, it can’t be her…” he murmured, and grabbed the hem of James’s shirt. “It’s not Irene, right? How could that ugly thing

right then and clasped

but the people who were there saw the explosion, and she was in the middle of it.

us.”