<b>Chapter </b><b>392 </b><b>A </b>Death with <b>No </b><b>Answers </b>
<b>As </b><b>usual</b><b>, </b><b>Jean </b><b>got </b>out of the <b>cab </b>and headed straight for Samuel’s <b>office</b><b>. </b>The floor he <b>worked </b><b>on </b><b>was </b><b>as </b><b>quiet </b><b>as </b>always<b>; </b><b>Jean </b>walked slowly down the long hallway, her footsteps echoing sharply <b>with </b><b>every </b>step
<b>She’d </b><b>been </b>here many times before; everything was familiar to her.
She habitually pushed open the door to Samuel’s office–only to find the desk empty. <i>What </i><b>was </b><b>going </b><b>on</b>? <b><i>Was </i></b><b><i>Samuel </i></b><i>gone </i><i>again</i><b><i>? </i></b>
<b>Jean </b>instinctively scanned the room, her eyes flicking to the corners; but still, no sign of him.
She let out a small pout and stepped into the office.
While her gaze continued to wander, she made her way toward the lounge area-
Jean had been nning to sit on the couch and wait for him to return…
But unexpectedly, she caught a glimpse of ck hair peeking out from behind the couch.
Someone was behind it.
Realizing this, Jean quickly changed direction and hurried around to the back.
Samuel hadn’t left the office.
He was lying on the cold floor on his side; his face was pale, his breathing faint.
The scene hit Jean all at once–clear and vivid.
Her eyes widened; her pupils trembled violently-
If she remembered correctly…
A rush of chaotic thoughts swarmed her mind as she tried to recall the details from the novel.
What she’d been worried about–it looked like it had already happened.
She had never given much thought to Samuel’s ending…
ording to the novel’s timeline, nothing major was supposed to happen to him for a few more years.
Even if something <i>were </i>to happen, it wasn’t supposed to be this soon.
Then she remembered what the novel said, Samuel died under murky circumstances.
He suffered from severe asthma and had to carry his inhaler with him at all times just in case.
Most of the time, there were no problems.
But just once–things went wrong.
His asthma red up, and as usual, he used his inhaler, but that time, instead of saving him, it killed him.
That’s right–after using his medication, Samuel mysteriously died…
<i>1/24 </i>
<b>Chapter </b><b>392 </b><b>A </b><b>Death </b><b>with </b><b>No </b><b>Answers </b>
<b>Back </b>then<b>, </b><b>the </b><b>Ginger </b><b>family </b>told the public <b>that </b>Samuel <b>had </b><b>died </b><b>because </b><b>he </b><b>didn’t </b>take his medicationan <b>time</b>. <b>But </b>the truth <b>was </b>
<b>They’d </b><b>discovered </b>something <b>was </b>wrong with the inhaler itself.
<b>Simply </b><b>put</b><b>, </b>someone had tampered with it; the altered medication was what killed him.
<b>The </b>Ginger family knew his death wasn’t <b>as </b>simple as it seemed. Outwardly, <b>they </b>stayed quiet<b>; </b><b>behind </b><b>the </b><b>scenes</b><b>, </b><b>they </b>tried to investigate.
But whoever was behind it had been too skilled; no matter how much they dug, they found nothing.
The truth seemed to be buried forever; Samuel died with no real exnation…
But all of that was supposed to happen yearster–was it possible that some butterfly effect had brought <b>it </b>all forward?
Jean couldn’t help but crouch down.
Her mind was a mess<b>; </b>only now did she manage to calm herself a little.
She stared at Samuel’s bloodless face, her hand trembling as she reached out.
Her brow furrowed without her realizing it; her heart was thudding faster and faster.
Finally, her fingers brushed against the tip of Samuel’s nose—
Jean needed to know if he was still breathing…
If he was already dead…
Thankfully, she felt a faint wisp of breath against her fingers!
Samuel was still alive!
That single realization flooded her with relief; she let out a shaky breath, then immediately stood up and bolted for the door.
Right now, the only thing that mattered was finding medical help.
Luckily–they were already in a hospital.
Send <b>Gifts </b>
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