Chapter 167 Frank Appears

I had imagined meeting Alan countless times.

There were so many things I wanted to tell him—the months of wandering, the longing that consumed me day and night, the bedroom door that remained locked, never once opened.

I wanted to ask about the events from over twenty years ago, the stories between Frank, Mike, Bob, and Laura.

I wanted to know how life was for him, George, Tony, Tom, and Lally back in Sand Village.

Why did he endure all the loneliness and pain alone, never sharing even a bit with me?

Should I feel heartache or sorrow?

But the moment I saw Alan, my body seemed to lose control. I couldn't stop myself from running towards him, drawn by the familiar warmth and scent.

All the discontent, sorrow, and inexplicable jealousy in my heart vanished in that instant.

I called out his name.

His gentle response, as soft as ever, seemed to have the power to dissolve all my emotions like a spring breeze.

The next moment, I buried my face in his chest and began to cry softly.

Leonard and Benjamin stood nearby, silent for a long time, only letting out a gentle sigh.

After a while, I collected myself and regained my usual composure.

There would be plenty of time to ask Alan about the old steel mill, Joseph and Mike's departure, and the stories of Lally and the others. Right now, the most important thing was to deal with Ronald.

I looked up and saw that Alan's face was pale and sickly. I couldn't tell if he hadn't rested well or if he was injured.

I carefully examined his clothes for any signs of injury but found none. I looked at Alan with a questioning gaze.

Alan smiled and shook his head gently, whispering, "It's nothing. Frank will be here soon."

As he spoke, a flash of pain crossed his face, and he sighed, saying, "Nancy, it was wrong of me to keep these things from you. I thought about telling you, but..."

"It doesn't matter. Now, we face this together." I said emotionally, reaching out to hold Alan's hand. 

His fingers were cold, and I instinctively tightened my grip, trying to warm them. It took a while before they felt a bit warmer, but my unease only grew.

A fit of violent coughing, weak yet desperate, echoed through the air, like someone clinging to his last breath.

Frank slowly wheeled himself through the crowd. He looked just as he did the last time I saw him in the hospital—on the brink of death, barely hanging on, as if he could pass away at any moment.

Yet, after all this time, he was still alive, and his complexion even looked slightly better than Alan's, with a faint hint of color in his cheeks.

He glanced at me, then at Alan, opening his mouth to say something. Seeing me holding Alan's hand, he snorted and mocked:

"Reunited lovers, Alan, you're the lucky one."

Alan's pale face flushed with embarrassment at Frank's words. His hand trembled slightly, as if he wanted to pull away, but I held on tightly, staring at Frank without speaking.

My stance said it all. Those who stood by their principles and believed in justice were always on the side of light. Those consumed by darkness and hatred would never find peace.

"Frank, when you get better, Laura... it's not impossible. I believe she still has feelings for you."

"Alan, do you always have to meddle in other people's business?"

Frank, summoning some unknown strength, stood up shakily, his neck veins bulging, glaring at Alan. Finally, he slumped back into his wheelchair, waving his hand dismissively, his eyes vacant, his voice hoarse.

"Forget it. Some things I did willingly. Why blame you? We're not young anymore, are we?"

Alan looked at Frank with a pained expression, reaching out with his other hand to gently place it on Frank's wheelchair armrest. Frank's body trembled, as if he wanted to resist, but in the end, he didn't move.

"Frank, this time, work with us. Follow the rules. I promise, as long as there's no concrete evidence of your involvement in Ronald's crimes, I'll plead with the judge for you."

Frank, who had been silent, let out a strange laugh, lifting his head slightly to glance at Leonard and Benjamin, sneering.

"You all want me to owe you, right? Well, I won't. I don't need you to judge me in court. You know, Leonard, I won't live to see that day."

Leonard said nothing, turning to the side and making a gesture of invitation.

Alan squeezed my hand, then let go and walked behind Frank, grabbing the wheelchair handles and gently pushing him forward. 

I followed, walking alongside Alan.

The fire raged on, flames licking out of the windows above, but the rooftop remained untouched. I could vaguely see Ronald's silhouette.

Ahead, the lift was ready, the platform slowly lowering to our feet, meant to carry the three of us up to the rooftop.

I helped Alan push Frank's wheelchair onto the lift, then we followed, our feet leaving the ground. The momentary loss of gravity made me feel a bit uneasy, my body swaying slightly. A shoulder gently steadied me—it was Alan.

Halfway up, Benjamin and Leonard called out in unison from below.

"Nancy!"

I turned to them.

Leonard looked up at me, his Adam's apple bobbing, the firelight reflecting in his eyes, giving them a strange glow.

Leonard said, "It's been years since you came to my house for dinner. Come over with Alan in a few days."

I nodded and looked at Benjamin.

I nodded again and turned my back to them.

"Nancy."

"What is it?"

"Being loved feels good, doesn't it?"

"I've always loved you."

"Yes, so I'm the luckiest person in the world."

Alan and I instinctively held hands again, like a pact, promising never to part.

As the lift continued to rise, the smoke and flames lessened near the rooftop. Looking ahead, Frank, who had been silent, suddenly trembled.

We all saw her—a stunning woman, moving gracefully, dressed in red, dancing on the narrow edge of the rooftop.

Below, the inferno raged, but she seemed oblivious, dancing freely.

Her light steps, rhythmic movements, and flowing hair made her look like the most brilliant flame in the fire, embodying the essence of the blaze.

A sigh quietly escaped from the wheelchair.