?Chapter 1479:


    Pattie drew a slow breath. She couldn’t keep him in the dark.


    “Ethan, don’t overthink it,” she said, forcing calm into her tone. “Maia is safe.”


    His eyes locked onto hers, wary and intense. “Then why isn’t she answering her phone? I’ve called her over and over.”


    Pattie softened her voice, offering what reassurance she could while skirting the full truth. “She’s shaken. There was an incident, and her phone isn’t essible right now. But I spoke to her earlier — she just needs some time. I promise you, she is safe.”


    Some of the tension left Ethan’s shoulders, easing slightly at the reassurance. But his hands clutched the hem of his shirt as his voice wavered with the next question.


    “And Chris… is he with Maia? Is he alright?”


    Memories of gunfire and Chris shielding Maia surged through him. Chris had risked everything to protect her — he had been a hero — and Ethan prayed silently that he hade through unscathed.


    Pattie hesitated, her gaze softening as she looked at him. She thought of all Chris had endured for Maia, and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.


    With a heavy, measured sigh, she finally spoke — letting out the painful truth that even she struggled to ept.


    “Chris saved Maia,” Pattie said, her voice barely a breath. “But he… might not have made it.”


    The wordsnded like a physical blow. Ethan felt the air rush from his lungs, his world tilting on its axis. A cold numbness spread from his chest outward, and his face went pale.


    “Not made it?” he repeated, the meaning dawning on him with horrific rity. “You mean… Chris is dead? He died for my sister?”


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    Chris. Justiceze. The brother-inw he had finally, truly weed. Gone?


    Disbelief short-circuited his thoughts. He staggered backward until the cold, unyielding hospital wall stopped his retreat. “No. It can’t be true. It can’t end like this.”


    A storm broke within him — a whirlwind of anguish and a crushing, particr regret. He had never apologized. He had never told Chris he epted him. And now that chance was gone forever.


    This was the cruelest twist of fate.


    A wave of regret, guilt, and furious self-reproach crashed over him, pulling him under. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the tears escaped anyway, tracing hot paths down his cheeks.


    Pattie watched, her own heart breaking for him. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Some grief was a solitary road that no one could walk for another. That was why, despite her worry for Maia, she had refrained from seeking her out. She knew Maia would hide her wounds, would push everyone away to hurt alone. All Pattie could do was wait, hoping her friend would reach out when the storm inside had quieted.


    Meanwhile, in the adjacent VIP suite, morning light fell in soft stripes through the blinds, painting the room in bands of gold and shadow.


    On the bed, Richard’s fingers twitched. Then, slowly, his eyelids fluttered open.


    His vision was blurred, as though looking through a rain-streaked window, but his mind — for the first time in what felt like an eternity — was crystal clear. The pervasive mental fog had lifted.


    He scanned the room. Jarrod wasn’t there. Only his wife, Sandra, remained, still unconscious in the other bed. His heart ached at the sight of her.


    He willed his fingers to move. They obeyed.


    A surge of joy rushed through him — the long-lost feeling of control, of self, was finally his again. Slowly, painstakingly, he reached for the emergency call button beside the bed. After several strained attempts, he pressed it.


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