Mr. Atticus gasped for breath, sweat dripping heavily from his forehead as he glared daggers at Flora and Connor. How dare they! How dare they treat him like this! Without him, how would they cure the poison?

"Talk, or don't you?" Connor's patience was running thin, a cold glint in his dark eyes, his voice hoarse and menacing, like a tidal wave crashing towards Mr. Atticus.

"It wasn't me. What do you want me to say?" Mr. Atticus tried to keep his fear at bay, gritting his teeth. His disciples were still here; if he showed weakness now, he'd lose all authority. Connor's eyes narrowed, and he coldly spat out, "Break his legs."

"Wait...!" Mr. Atticus was genuinely terrified now. He had no doubt Connor meant every word—he would really cripple him!

Swallowing hard, his voice trembling, he said, "You're wasting your time with me. You should be checking on Crimson! If you're too late, you might not even find a body!"

Flora's expression changed at the mention of 'Crimson.' "What have you done to her?"

Mr. Atticus smirked, pleased with her reaction. He knew Crimson was important to them. He felt a twisted sense of satisfaction. "Why don't you go see for yourselves? But you'd better hurry, or else..."

came

the ground, coughing up blood, staring up in agony at the girl

of her eyes filled with a destructive madness, "If anything happens to

turned and sprinted towards the

...

to break in if the door stayed

a

ready to

phone on the table

this mess, and you're still hiding

were still wary of Club 257, so they hadn't gone all out yet, but if Club 257 pushed them too far, they were ready to do

and make her

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255