Chapter 270 Edward Has Passed Away

Chapter 270 Edward Has Passed Away

Andy had finally quieted down completely in her arms, his little face nestled against her neck, his breathing becoming steady and rhythmic, though he still hiccupped occasionally, as if unwilling to accept his grievances even in his dreams.

Ethan leaned down to check the child's forehead—no fever. He was about to suggest taking him back to the nursery when the phone on the nightstand suddenly rang.

At 3:30 in the morning, any phone call sounded like an alarm.

Ethan walked over and picked up the phone. The screen displayed a long international number with an Eldorian prefix. His brow furrowed slightly as he pressed the answer button.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Ethan? Are you a family member of Edward's?"

Ethan froze for a moment, his gaze instinctively flicking toward Jenna.

"I am. My wife is Edward's ex-wife. Who is this?"

"This is the Majestic City Police Department in Eldoria. We regret to inform you that Mr. Edward passed away yesterday evening local time at a private estate in the Majestic City suburbs. His body is currently at the morgue at St. Thomas' Hospital. We found his phone at the scene, and your contact was the only one in his address book marked as family. Therefore, we're calling to request your assistance with the subsequent arrangements."

Ethan stood frozen. After a long moment, the hand holding the phone slowly dropped to his side.

Edward... was dead?

"What's wrong?" Jenna's voice came from behind him.

She had already put Andy back in his crib and was walking over quietly.

"Ethan? Who was that?"

Ethan slowly turned around.

His lips moved as if to speak, then stopped.

"Ethan?" Jenna's heart suddenly clenched.

She stepped forward.

"What happened? Who's in trouble?"

Ethan gripped the phone tightly in his palm, raising his eyes to look at her.

After a long silence, he finally mustered the courage to speak.

"Jenna, that was the Eldorian police. Edward has passed away."

Jenna stood frozen in place.

She tilted her head slightly, as if she hadn't heard correctly.

"What?"

"Edward." Ethan's voice was hoarse. "Something happened in Eldoria. He's gone."

...

The flight to Majestic City was unbearably long.

The cabin lights had been dimmed. Most passengers had pulled down their window shades and were sleeping soundly under blankets.

Jenna leaned against the window, staring blankly at the gray-white clouds churning outside.

Endless and heavy, silent—as if the entire world was buried beneath them.

Her forehead pressed against the cold window, her brow slightly furrowed. Since boarding the plane, she had barely changed position.

Ethan sat beside her, silent, simply holding her hand in his palm.

The plane passed through some turbulence, the fuselage shaking gently.

Jenna suddenly turned her head and spoke softly.

"When we first met, he wasn't like he became later."

Ethan turned to look at her.

Her eyes were dry, as if she had no more tears to shed.

"When he was little, he had a stubborn temper, but he wasn't mean-spirited. Once I scraped my knee badly, and everyone just stood around watching. Only he crouched down and tore his new shirt to bandage it for me. Later, people made fun of him for it, and he snapped at me, telling me to get lost. I thought then, how could someone be so contrary—clearly being kind but pretending not to care."

The corner of her mouth curved slightly, but the smile dissolved before it could fully form.

"He was always like that. The more he cared about something, the more he pretended not to. With his father, with his mother, with himself. His whole life, it seemed he never once openly admitted what he wanted. He didn't dare reach for what he wanted, didn't dare speak what he wanted to say, didn't dare chase after the people he wanted to keep. In the end, he kept nothing."

Her voice grew softer and softer.

Ethan tightened his grip on her hand. "Jenna."

"Before he left, he told me not to cry." Jenna's voice suddenly caught.

"He said it was all in the past. He even smiled at me and said he'd let it all go, that I should stop carrying those burdens too. I thought he really was okay. I thought he could finally live well."

She turned to look at Ethan, the emptiness in her eyes finally showing a crack.

"We're not there yet—maybe they made a mistake." Ethan desperately searched for words of comfort.

But Jenna shook her head.

"No. They wouldn't make a mistake. The Eldorian police wouldn't joke about something like this."

She turned back, leaning against the window again, her shoulders curling inward slightly.

"He said he would watch Andy grow up. He told me himself—he said Andy was his child, that he'd make up for what he owed me by loving the baby. He never got to hear Andy call him Dad. How could he suddenly be gone?"

Ethan's throat felt blocked by something.

But in the face of death, all words of comfort seemed so flimsy, as thin as paper.

All he could do was reach out and pull Jenna from the window, gathering her completely into his arms.

The plane continued flying west, crossing the entire Eurasian continent, crossing a night that seemed endless.

They arrived in Majestic City at 6 a.m. local time.

Dawn had not yet fully broken. Gray-white mist shrouded the entire city, and a thin layer of cold fog floated over the Moonlight River.

They went straight from the airport to the morgue at St. Thomas' Hospital.

A staff member pulled open the refrigerated drawer. Cold air rushed out, condensing into a white cloud in the air.

Edward lay there quietly.

Jenna stood at the door, looking at that familiar yet strange face. In a daze, time felt as if an invisible hand had suddenly thrust it forward a dozen years.

What she saw was no longer this scarred man lying in the morgue, but the teenager sweating on the basketball court.

He wore a white T-shirt soaked through with sweat, his hair plastered damply to his forehead. He twisted open a bottle of water and poured it over his head, then turned to her with a smile that was slightly impatient yet couldn't hide his pride.

He said: "Jenna, you're taking pictures of me again."

Then she blinked.

That teenager vanished.

Lying there was Edward, covered with the hospital's white sheet, the bruises on his cheekbones purple-black, his lips utterly bloodless.

His eyes were closed, his expression peaceful—so peaceful he looked merely asleep.

Jenna turned and said something quietly to the staff member.

The staff member hesitated, then handed her a clean towel and a basin of water.

She took the towel, walked to Edward's side, bent down, and began to wash his body.

The towel was dampened with warm water and wrung half-dry. Starting from his pale fingertips, she wiped upward, bit by bit.