Chapter 256 His Home Became a Ruin
That pale pink baby blanket lay in the deepest part of the ruins, more than half of it pinned beneath a massive concrete slab. Only one corner was exposed, like the last trace forgotten in the chaos.
Alexander lunged forward, all reason gone, and began tearing at the broken stones and shattered beams with his bare hands.
Within seconds, his fingers were bleeding, cut open by jagged edges.
But he didn't feel it. He kept digging, deeper and deeper, as if stopping would mean the world would collapse entirely.
Footsteps sounded behind him.
Alexander went rigid. He turned his head slowly.
Caroline stood on the ruins, a terrible gash on the side of her head, dried blood trailing down from her temple.
She held their child—that tiny body had long since lost all color, covered in bruises from the crushing weight. She looked down at him, her gaze so calm it seemed to freeze the air.
"Alexander, why didn't you take care of the baby again?"
"No! That's not what happened!" Alexander's roar tore through the air.
He staggered to his feet and ran toward her.
But no matter how hard he ran, the distance between them never closed. Not even by half a step.
She stood there, only a few feet away, yet trapped in some dimension he could never reach. He stretched out his hand, desperate, grasping at nothing.
"Caroline! Don't go!"
"Mr. Hamilton!"
An urgent voice pressed against his ear.
"Get back! There's an aftershock coming!"
Alexander snapped back to reality. Mark was supporting him, holding him upright in the courtyard of Ravenwood Manor.
The sky hung low and gray, the air thick with dust.
He blinked. His vision cleared slowly.
His home—his former home—had collapsed into ruins.
"No—!"
Alexander let out a raw, tearing scream. He shook off Mark's grip and lunged toward the rubble again, falling hard to his knees, clawing desperately at the debris with blood-soaked hands.
"Caroline! Caroline's inside!" His voice cracked with terror. "The baby's in there too! Mark, help me! Hurry!"
The ground began to shake again, but Alexander didn't notice.
Mark stumbled as the tremor hit. He came to his senses and rushed forward, grabbing Alexander from behind and dragging him toward safety.
"Mr. Hamilton! You can't keep digging! The aftershock's here! It's too dangerous!"
"Let me go!" Alexander thrashed wildly, his arms still reaching forward.
"Let me go! Caroline's inside! She's waiting for me! She was alive just now—she was right in front of me!"
Alexander's screams grew louder, but his vision grew darker.
Mark felt the body in his arms suddenly go limp.
"Mr. Hamilton!"
But when he looked down, Alexander had lost consciousness.
---
When he opened his eyes again, Alexander was lying in a hospital bed.
"Mr. Hamilton!" Mark rushed to his side the instant his eyes opened. "You scared the hell out of me... You were out for two days. The doctor said you've got multiple injuries—two broken ribs, a fractured right leg, and—"
"The earthquake." Alexander's voice was flat. "That was real, wasn't it?"
Mark froze, then nodded. "Yes... it happened yesterday afternoon. High magnitude. Ravenwood Manor... most of it's gone."
Alexander turned slowly toward him.
"Those things... they weren't hallucinations, were they?"
Mark opened his mouth, unsure how to respond.
"I was kneeling in the ruins. Digging." Alexander's voice was distant, as if he were explaining it to himself. "I called Caroline's name... you said I kept shouting her name..."
"Yes." Mark nodded with difficulty. "You kept shouting... Mrs. Hamilton's name."
Alexander suddenly sat up.
"It wasn't a hallucination!" He grabbed Mark's collar, his voice hoarse. "She came back! Caroline came back! She was at Ravenwood Manor—she made me soup, she told me to drink it! And our baby came back too!"
Mark's face went pale. His lips trembled. "Mr. Hamilton... Mrs. Hamilton... she passed away a long time ago."
"No!" Alexander roared.
"She was in the kitchen frying steak. She touched my head. She smiled at me! It was my fault—I left the baby on the floor, then the earthquake hit, so the baby got trapped under the rubble. That's why she was angry. That's why she left me..."
"Mr. Hamilton!" Mark gripped his shoulders.
"Please listen to me. Mrs. Hamilton is gone. You asked Della to choose her headstone. You picked out the dress she wore. She was cremated and buried with Liam and the others. You've been there. You've visited. Have you really forgotten?"
Alexander's whole body began to tremble.
"You're lying..." he whispered. "You're lying... she was there... she was right there..."
He shoved Mark aside and stumbled out of bed.
The moment his feet hit the ground, a sharp pain shot through his right leg.
He grunted, his body swaying, nearly falling, but he steadied himself against the bed frame and limped toward the door.
"Mr. Hamilton! You can't get out of bed! Your injuries—"
Alexander didn't hear him. He dragged his injured leg, shuffling toward the door step by step.
His hand had just touched the doorknob when the door swung open from the other side.
A pair of feet appeared before him.
Alexander froze. His gaze moved slowly upward. Slender calves. The faint scar on her knee from a childhood fall. The hem of a soft house dress. A white apron tied at the waist. A gently rising chest. A clear collarbone.
Then he saw her face.
Caroline stood in the doorway, holding a thermos, looking at him with surprise.
"Why aren't you in bed? Why did you come out?" Her voice was gently scolding.
"Go back and lie down. When Liam gets back and sees you standing, he'll be scared. He cares about you most of all. Don't you know that?"
Alexander stared at her, his lips trembling. He couldn't make a sound.
He reached out slowly, his fingertips hovering in the air before finally brushing the corner of her sleeve.
"Caroline..." His voice was barely a whisper. "Is it really you?"
Caroline gave him a look that was half exasperated, half amused.
"Of course it's me. Who else would it be?" She raised her hand and touched his forehead, then her own, frowning.
"Are you running a fever again? Why are you saying such strange things?"
A voice came from behind her.
"Mr. Hamilton, what's wrong? Are you running a fever?"
Kenna appeared behind Caroline, holding the baby. She stood beside her and looked at Alexander with the same confused expression.
Then she glanced past him and called out, "Liam, why did Mr. Hamilton tear his wounds open again? After the earthquake, he was so badly injured—several gashes. Why didn't you make him lie down properly?"
Alexander whipped his head around.