?<strong>Chapter 217:</strong>


    Carrie herself was engulfed by the ocean, the massive waves devouring her as effortlessly as they would a stray leaf adrift at sea. The icy seawater bit into her skin, pulling her down relentlessly. Despite her mental rehearsals, a suffocating terror overwhelmed her as the shadow of death crept closer.


    Instinctively, her survival instincts red, sparking a fierce determination to live.


    She had mentally prepared for the worst yet harbored no true desire to meet her end.


    Holding her breath tightly, Carrie battled the ropes that ensnared her. Even a faint glimmer of hope was enough to fuel her resolve.


    Surrender was not an option.


    Her new life was barely underway. Agarwood was still a work in progress. She could not allow her story to end in these cold depths.


    Her unfinished script needed her. People who believed in her were still out there, waiting.


    But her strength was fading fast.


    She had hit her breaking point, her lungs screaming in agony as her body began to betray her.


    A forced gasp broke her resolve, and the harsh, salty seawater rushed in, filling her lungs.


    Her body grew limp, sumbing to the pull of the ocean’s depths.


    The dim light from above slowly faded, leaving her enveloped in an unfathomable darkness.


    As her consciousness slipped away, the ropes binding her seemed to loosen slightly.


    Yet, with no strength left, she remained motionless.


    Her final thought was of Gracie. In the end, shemented she couldn’t care for Gracie anymore.


    In a hospital room, Lisey reclined on the examination table, her body connected to a series of high-tech apparatuses that sent real-time data directly into the nearbyputer system. The doctor, his focus intense, studied the digital readouts before raising his eyes to meet Kristopher’s.


    “Ms. Nash is making excellent progress in her recovery,” the doctor said. “Her heart is functioning exceptionally well—there are no significant concerns to report. However, since it’s a transnt, it may not perform as fluidly as her original heart did. A bit of difort here and there is to be expected, but it’s nothing rming.”


    Kristopher nodded firmly, his voice steady. “Understood. Please continue with the same supplements as before. They seem to be effective.”


    Lise offered a frail smile, the kind that suggested more strength than her tone conveyed, as she slowly sat up from the machinery. “As long as my heart is working, I can handle a little difort,” she said, her words light but tinged with something harder to read.


    Oliver, who had been silently observing, furrowed his brow. Her words struck him as oddly detached, almost as though Lise saw herself merely as a vessel for the new heart, rather than its recipient. The essence of a heart transnt, after all, was to improve her quality of life, wasn’t it?


    His thoughts swirled in confusion, trying to make sense of the cryptic sentiment behind her statement.


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