Chapter 299

Chapter 299
As I walked into the police station, the entire hall was filled with whispers.

Officers stopped their conversations, their eyes wide with disbelief.

I could almost hear their thoughts: Sophia Wilson, back from the dead.

I had been missing for over three months. Now I was front-page news again, but for all the wrong reasons.

From the moment he found me, Henry's hand hadn't left mine.

As we followed the detective into the interrogation room, his fingers remained firmly intertwined with mine. The warmth of his touch was the only thing keeping me grounded as reality began to sink in: I was the prime suspect in William's death.

The detective gestured for me to sit at the metal table while a technician attached sensors to my temples and fingertips.

A polygraph test—they weren't taking any chances.

"Sophia Wilson," the detective began, his voice cold as ice, "where were you the night William Harding died?"

Before I could answer, Henry leaned forward, irritation flashing in his eyes. "Officer, must you be so severe? My wife just escaped captivity. She's traumatized. A little compassion wouldn't kill you."

He protectively tightened his grip on my hand. I looked down at our intertwined fingers, feeling an unexpected tenderness. His protection was... surprising.

I gave him a small smile. "It's okay. I'm fine. William's death needs to be thoroughly investigated."

Turning to the detective, I took a deep breath. "Officer, I did visit William at the hospital that night, but after that... everything's blank. I truly don't remember."

This was the truth. When the kidnappers captured me, I hit my head on the pavement.

Since then, my memory had been fragmented—some pieces missing, sometimes returning days later.

The polygraph lines remained steady, confirming my honesty.

The detective narrowed his eyes. "Be clear, Mrs. Wilson. This is a homicide investigation. I need you to focus and stop avoiding the question."

His tone sharpened, making me flinch.

"We know you were there. Security footage captured you entering his room. Ten minutes later, William Harding was dead. Now, I'll ask again—what happened in that room?"

My heart raced. Security footage? That couldn't be right.

I remembered planning to visit William, but after that... nothing.

"I—I truly don't remember. I was planning to see him, but then..." I pressed my fingers against my temples, trying to force the memories to surface.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my head. I gasped, doubling over.

Henry immediately stood up. "Enough!" he snapped, ripping the sensors from my skin. "Can't you see she's in pain?"

Without waiting for a response, he scooped me up and headed for the door.

"Mr. Harding, we're not finished!" the detective called after us.

"We are," Henry didn't look back, "she needs medical attention. Your questions can wait."

The detective stepped forward, but seeing my genuine distress, he reluctantly backed down. "Fine. But we'll need to continue this conversation. Soon."

Henry carried me straight through the police station and out the front doors, ignoring the stares from officers and civilians alike.

"Henry, put me down," I whispered, suddenly aware of the crowd gathering on the steps. "Everyone's watching."

"I don't care," he said firmly, his arms tightening around me. "Let them watch."

His expression was intense, almost desperate. "I won't let you leave me again, Sophia. Not even for a second."

The raw emotion in his voice caught me off guard.

This wasn't the cold, distant Henry I knew.

"You're embarrassing me," I protested weakly, but my heart wasn't in it.

"Too bad," he replied, continuing toward the car. "I just want to hold you."

He was different now—showing a vulnerability I'd never seen before.

He had always been so confident, so certain about everything. But looking at him now, I saw fear in his eyes. Fear of losing me again.

"When you disappeared," he continued, his voice lower, "I realized how much I had taken for granted. Every day without you was..." his voice trailed off, unable to find the right words.

I felt something changing inside me, a wall I had built long ago beginning to crumble.

"I'm warning you, Sophia," his voice suddenly became intense, "if you ever disappear from my side again, I'll break your legs. Do you hear me?"

Despite his harsh words, I could hear what he was really saying: I can't lose you again.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, suddenly feeling bold. "Put me down, and I'll give you a kiss."

The moment those words left my mouth, my cheeks burned. Where had that come from?

Henry immediately stopped walking, his eyebrows rising in surprise. Slowly, he lowered me to my feet, his eyes never leaving mine.

But instead of fulfilling my promise, I darted toward his car, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

"Sophia!" he called after me, half-laughing, half-frustrated. "You promised!"

I slipped into the passenger seat just as he climbed in beside me.

"Breaking promises deserves punishment," he warned, but there was no anger in his voice—only relief and something else I couldn't quite identify.

I leaned back against the seat, suddenly feeling exhausted. "These past months, I've been living in a fog. I don't know where they kept me or what drugs they gave me. I was sleeping most of the time, my mind foggy."

Henry remained silent, giving me space to continue.

"If you don't believe me, you can have a doctor examine my arms." I rolled up my sleeve, revealing the track marks on my inner elbow. "They injected me with something almost every day."

Henry's jaw tightened as he stared at the needle marks. He reached out, gently tracing a finger over the wounds before taking my hand in his again.

"You don't need to explain, Sophia," he said softly. "Tell me if you want to, or don't. I don't care about any of that."

He gently squeezed my hand. "Compared to your safety, everything else is insignificant."

The tenderness in his voice caught me off guard.

This wasn't the Henry I knew—cold, distant, always putting Isabella first.

"During your absence," he continued, "I couldn't stop thinking about you. All I wanted was for you to come back alive. When someone is gone, you realize what truly matters."

Warmth spread from my fingers up my arm, finally settling in my chest. I rested my head on his shoulder, looking out the window at the city passing by.

"When I disappeared, you must have been happy," I said quietly. "Finally free of me."

His grip on my hand suddenly tightened, painfully.

"Ouch!" I pulled my hand back, frowning. "What was that for?"

Henry's eyes glinted. "To stop you from talking nonsense. Is that what you really think?"

I didn't answer, but his reaction made my heart race.

As the car pulled into Maple Grove, I felt unbearably dirty.

"I need a shower," I announced, heading straight for the bathroom the moment we entered the house.

Henry retreated to his study to call his father.

Hearing the news of Sophia's return, he sat up in his bed: "Really? Sophia is back? She returned safely?"

As a businessman who had navigated the commercial world for many years, he was puzzled by Sophia's safe return.

The kidnappers had clearly demanded fifty million dollars in cash, yet they never approached the Harding family for the money—why?

Henry heard the question in his father's tone, suppressed his many doubts, and gave a faint "Mm-hmm."

"She's indeed back, completely fine, unharmed, except for many needle marks on the veins of her arms."

"I've seen those injection marks, they're real."

"Right now, I suspect they injected her with some kind of drug that can control a person's mind."

Although Sophia seemed to behave the same as before, he felt something was off about her.

After listening to his son, Richard switched the phone to his other hand: "What do you plan to do?"

Henry thought for a moment: "Nothing for now, let's wait and see. If I'm not mistaken, they'll soon ask for the fifty million."

Richard exhaled a long breath: "I'm getting old, my mind doesn't work as fast as yours, and I can't keep up with the new trends. Whatever you want to do, go ahead and do it. If you make mistakes, I'll take responsibility for them!"

"But there's one thing you must figure out—how exactly did Grandfather die!"

"This matter, you must give me an answer no matter what!"

Henry said "Okay," and hung up.

When he walked out of the study and into the bedroom, Sophia was already asleep.

The woman lay on the sapphire blue bed, her back to him, breathing evenly.

Henry approached, tucked her exposed hand under the covers, raised the air conditioning temperature, left a kiss on her forehead, and walked out of the bedroom.

The moment the door closed, the sleeping woman opened her eyes.