Chapter 277 Ambrose’s Resolve
Ambrose's face was covered in stubble, and his downcast eyes had a melancholic look to them.
He stood in the doorway as the night wind blew in through the crack, making the hem of his clothes flutter a few times.
He stared at the cast on Donny's foot for a few seconds, then silently closed the door.
He placed the fruit basket on the bedside table next to Donny's bed.
"I have to kill him."
"Once I kill him, all the sins will end."
Donny frowned. "Killing him will really end this tragedy?"
Ambrose clenched his fists tight. He suddenly turned his head and stared at Donny's face.
"He can break your leg today. What about tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow he can chop off your head."
Ambrose's voice had a hard edge of determination. "You and I are like mice trapped in a jar. Our lives and deaths are completely in his control."
"If he wants us to live, we live."
"If he wants us to die, we can only die."
Ambrose stood by the window, looking up at the stars in the night sky.
When people die, can they really become stars?
Among all those stars, which one is Isabella?
He shook his head, mocking his own helplessness.
Why, even now, is he still so naive?
Donny's voice came from beside him.
"I think you're being too extreme. William won't kill us."
"If he wanted to do this, he's had plenty of chances."
"Besides, Isabella wouldn't want you to do this either."
As Donny's last sentence trailed off, even Ambrose, standing nearby, suddenly closed his eyes.
His fists loosened a bit, and his nose felt sore.
When he opened his eyes again, he looked up at the sky and said,
"Haven't you always hoped that Isabella could be buried?"
"If he doesn't die, Isabella will never rest in peace."
Donny tried to get up from the bed, but the leg wrapped in the cast was too heavy and nearly made him fall to the floor.
Fortunately, Ambrose moved quickly and caught him.
He helped him sit on the bed and shook his head.
"You're a doctor. You're too soft-hearted."
Donny patted the mattress beside him. He looked at Ambrose and chuckled softly.
"I know you can't forget what happened back then."
"Isabella's place in everyone's heart is the same."
Donny looked at the stubble on Ambrose's face, and his own smile was as warm as his voice.
After all these days and nights, he'd gradually figured a lot of things out.
Isabella was really silly sometimes. She was the kind of person who would rather suffer herself than trouble others.
So when people appeared who cared about her, when William showed killing intent,
Isabella's guilt was heavier than anyone else's.
To avoid dragging these people down, she could easily disregard her own life.
Donny lifted the leg in the cast and shifted his position.
"Last night, something strange happened at the hospital."
"Some lunatic called an ambulance for a corpse, forced the director to do a CT scan on that corpse, and then wanted to perform surgery on it."
"You weren't there, so you won't understand—Isabella's place in William's heart is no less than yours or mine."
Donny spoke slowly. After learning about last night's events from a friend, he became more certain of his suspicions.
One misunderstanding led to another, and all these misunderstandings piled up, setting off a chain reaction.
They gathered into a huge whirlpool that dragged William into the abyss.
William could no longer escape from that abyss. Living was the most painful punishment for him.
But Donny had underestimated Ambrose's determination. After hearing this, veins bulged on Ambrose's face.
"Why would he perform surgery on Isabella's corpse?"
"That bastard, what has he done now?"
Donny sighed. Ambrose had completely missed the point.
"I heard from Dylan that Isabella has been placed in a crystal coffin, and even William can't touch her anymore."
"Go home," Donny sighed. "Go see your family, or maybe travel abroad."
"Don't let Isabella's good intentions go to waste."
Ambrose frowned. He glanced at Donny, then turned and walked out.
When he opened the door, he stopped again and said without looking back, "I remember you said you'd find a sunny hillside to bury Isabella on, and plant it full of sunflowers. When they bloom, Isabella will be surrounded by sunflowers covering the entire hillside."
Donny smiled. "Of course. I always keep my word."
Ambrose nodded. "I'm leaving."
Watching the door close, Donny hugged his leg and slowly moved back onto the bed.
When he finally lay down properly, he still felt uneasy and sent Dylan a message.
Donny still didn't believe William would really kill them.
But he wasn't sure whether Ambrose would choose to go home or actually do that impulsive thing.
If he really went, only Dylan could prevent a new tragedy from happening.
Donny lay in bed, tossing and turning several times, but still couldn't fall asleep.
The night wind howled, blowing into Ambrose's collar.
He carried a half-empty bottle of liquor, staggering alone down the street.
The streetlights on both sides of the road dispelled some of the darkness, and vehicles in the middle of the street whooshed past him.
Ambrose walked unsteadily, aimlessly.
He didn't know where to go or where he could go.
He walked across half the city and finished the rest of the liquor.
He leaned against a lamppost and vomited up a pile of filth.
Finally, he still headed toward the Spencer family's villa.
The streetlights cast his shadow behind him. After turning a corner, he disappeared into the darkness.
This night was too long, and too many people couldn't sleep.
William held onto the coffin. He wasn't suffering from insomnia—he just didn't want to sleep.
He was no longer afraid of dreaming. He just couldn't bear it—couldn't bear to look at Isabella one last time, to miss a chance to be with Isabella.
So he kept fighting off drowsiness. When he couldn't hold on anymore, he'd cut his hand with a small knife.
The wounds on his left hand would never heal.
From his palm to his arm, there wasn't a single patch of intact skin.
He looked like a deserter off a battlefield, but this deserter didn't value his life at all.
During the night, William coughed three times, coughing up blood twice.
William wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. His eyes showed no fear of death, only anticipation and longing.
The next morning, he groomed himself in front of the mirror, making himself impeccable from head to toe.
His hunched back straightened immediately when he opened the door to the outside world.
Dylan, waiting in the hallway, only knew that William hadn't eaten dinner. He couldn't see anything unusual about William.
He just vaguely felt that William was somehow different from before.