Chapter 202: Choosing to Grow Old Alone

Tara’s POV

"I read an interesting novel recently," Peter's voice crackled through my phone. "I could recommend it if you're bored."

Cold wind whipped around me as I'd retreated to the hospital rooftop to think. I'd been avoiding Finn's room, knowing my presence only confused and agitated him, but I couldn't stay away entirely. So I'd come back to check on him from a distance, receiving updates from Peter but remaining unseen.

"Is something wrong with your brain?" I snapped, fatigue and worry making my tone sharper than intended. Four days of minimal sleep and constant anxiety had worn away all my patience.

"This novel is about a woman who meets two men who both love her deeply," Peter continued as if I hadn't spoken. "Both men are excellent choices, and she can't decide between them. It's quite the dilemma..."

"Boss, I really think you could have both," he said, his voice growing more serious. "That way, nobody gets hurt."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," I retorted, my voice rising. "Instead of worrying about my non-existent love life, why don't you focus on preparing for your child's birth?"

I hung up, shoving my phone back into my pocket with unnecessary force. Peter's clumsy matchmaking attempts were the last thing I needed right now. Minutes later, the phone rang again, and I answered with undisguised irritation.

"What now, Peter?"

His voice had turned tense, urgent. "Boss, I need you to stay calm about what I'm about to tell you..."

My body went cold, all senses suddenly hyper-alert. "Something's happened to Finn."

"Yes," Peter confirmed, words rushing out like a torrent. "I went back to his room after our call. He was supposed to be sleeping, but the bed was empty. I've searched every floor—nobody saw him. It's like he vanished."

I was already moving, yanking open the rooftop door. "Whoever's been targeting him has been watching us, waiting for an opportunity like this. Peter, how long were you away from his room?"

"Five minutes. Ten at most."

"That's all it took," I said, taking the stairs two at a time. "They must have been observing, ready to act the moment you left. This was planned, calculated."

As I made my way down through the hospital, my mind coolly analyzed what I knew. Whoever took Finn would need intimate knowledge of the hospital layout, security protocols, and Finn's medical condition. They would need to be able to move quickly without attracting attention. And they would need to know exactly when Peter would be absent.

With every minute that passed, his chances diminished. I couldn't afford to overlook anything.

\---

My phone rang, interrupting my conversation with the hospital security team. James's name appeared on the screen. My first instinct was to ignore it—finding Finn was the priority now—but a vague intuition made me answer.

"Tara," James's voice carried an unusual tension, "Mr. Carter has suddenly taken a turn for the worse. He's experiencing severe respiratory distress. The doctors are examining him, but he specifically requested you."

Faced with two simultaneous emergencies, I momentarily felt paralyzed. "I can't come right now, James. I'm dealing with a critical situation."

"I understand, but..." his voice dropped to almost a whisper, "he believes it's related to the previous poisoning. He says it feels like a delayed reaction."

I immediately grasped the implications. If Luke was experiencing aftereffects of Mesmer, they were occurring too quickly. "I'll be there in twenty minutes. Tell him not to accept any medications from the doctors until I arrive."

I ended the call, standing still for three seconds, thinking through priorities, risks, and the most effective course of action. Finn was missing, taken by unknown enemies. Luke was suffering from what appeared to be a fatal secondary poisoning reaction. Both situations were life-threatening. Both men were in danger because of their connection to me.

On the way to Lakeside Park, I drove well above the speed limit. When I finally pulled up to the spacious entrance, James was waiting, his usually impeccable appearance slightly disheveled, eyes wide with concern.

"He's upstairs," James said, leading me toward the grand staircase I knew so well. "The doctor recommended immediate hospitalization, but he refused. He insisted on waiting for you."

I found Luke in his bedroom, half-sitting against a pile of pillows. The characteristic red rash of Mesmer poisoning covered his neck and face. His breathing was shallow and labored, each inhalation clearly requiring tremendous effort. Even in his weakened state, his eyes fixed immediately on me when I entered, his gaze a mixture of relief and pain.

"When did the symptoms start?" I asked, immediately shifting into clinical mode as I checked his pulse. His skin burned against my fingertips, his heart racing at a dangerous rate.

"About an hour ago," he said between labored breaths. "Dizziness at first... then the rash... breathing became difficult quickly."

I conducted a quick but thorough examination, mentally recording each symptom. The pattern was unmistakably Mesmer poisoning, but progressing at an alarming rate. Secondary reactions typically took weeks to manifest, not days.

"The formula has been altered," I said, more to myself than to Luke. "Someone made it more potent, accelerated the reaction time."

I took a small amber bottle from my medical bag, containing specialized pills I had developed specifically to combat Mesmer poisoning. I helped Luke swallow one with water, my hand supporting the back of his neck. His skin radiated heat against my palm.

"This should take effect quickly," I told him, looking for signs of improvement.

Within minutes, his breathing began to ease, the angry red patches on his skin gradually receding. I continued my examination, checking his pupils, listening to his lungs, monitoring his pulse until it slowly returned to a more normal rhythm.

"Finn," Luke suddenly said, his voice still rough. "How is he?"

The question caught me off guard. Luke didn't know what had happened since I last saw him.

"He's missing," I admitted, seeing no point in concealing the truth. "Someone took him when Peter briefly left the room."

Luke's eyes widened. "Do you think it's the same person who poisoned me?"

"Likely," I agreed, repacking my medical bag. "The timing is too perfect to be coincidence. I need to get back to the hospital immediately."

"I'll help," Luke said, already trying to sit up straighter.

I placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "You need to rest. The toxin has just been neutralized, any activity could trigger another reaction."

"Tara—"

"Since you're clearly improving, I should go," I interrupted him, turning toward the door. "Take another pill in six hours if any symptoms reappear."

"Tara, wait—"

"Focus on your recovery," I paused at the doorway without looking back. "I need to find Finn."

The resignation in Luke's voice was palpable. "Alright."

Standing at the entrance to Lakeside Park, I couldn't help but stop and turn back toward the magnificent mansion that had been my home for three years. Despite everything, some small part of me deep inside still recognized it as a sanctuary, a place where I had once belonged.

The elegant façade stood against the night sky, warm light spilling from windows that had once framed dozens of memories—dinner parties I had hosted, quiet evenings reading in the library, nights spent in Luke's arms. Life as it was supposed to be, normal and safe. A life I had convinced myself I didn't deserve.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "You really are a curse, Tara," I murmured to myself, the words carried away by the night breeze. "Everyone who gets close to you eventually pays the price."

The thought sat heavily in my chest. Once, I had allowed myself to imagine growing old with Luke in this house. I had dared to dream of children running through these gardens, quiet sunset viewings on the terrace, a life where my past couldn't reach me. Now I was deliberately walking away from him, convinced my proximity would only cause him more pain.

"Perhaps I should just disappear to some remote mountain and grow old alone," I muttered, turning away from the house one last time.

\---

Back at the hospital, I found Peter coordinating with the security team, reviewing the limited footage that hadn't been tampered with.

"Anything useful?" I asked, though his expression had already given me the answer.

He confirmed, frustration evident in his voice. "Whoever took him knew exactly where the cameras were and how to avoid them. The few glimpses we do have show someone in medical scrubs and a surgical mask—completely unidentifiable."

I observed, replaying the footage to watch the sequence again, "In the span of minutes, this person had to enter the room, convince or force Finn to leave with them, and then exit the hospital without drawing attention."

"You think Finn went willingly?" Peter looked surprised.

"Consider the situation," I said, pointing to the two figures walking side by side on the screen. "Finn was still recovering from major surgery. Despite his skills, he wouldn't have had the strength to resist an attacker. Yet there are no signs of a struggle here, and no hospital staff or other patients reported any disturbance."

I paused the footage, studying the body language of the two figures. "And look, they're walking side by side here, not one forcing the other. This suggests Finn was either willing or being coerced in some non-physical way."

"So either someone he knew and trusted, or someone who effectively threatened him," Peter summarized.

"Exactly," I nodded, thinking through the implications. "Given that Finn lost his memory of me, his memories of other relationships might be affected too. He might not be able to recognize potential threats."

"Could it be someone from his old gang?" Peter suggested. "Most of them aren't particularly bright—they might be manipulated into helping by whoever's really behind this."

"Possible," I agreed. "Finn's gang was large, but only a few members had direct access to him. Start your investigation with them—find out their recent whereabouts, who they've been in contact with, any unusual behavior in the last few days."

Peter nodded gravely. "I'll check them one by one."