Shadows Of A Forgotten Spring

Chapter 95

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But as his breathing slowed, the room coming into sharper focus around him, something shifted inside. Amid all the regret, the despair, a flicker of hope started to grow. He wasn't going to survive to do nothing, just take this chance his only chance- to make right. He might not be able to go back in time and erase any of the scars that he had made for his family and everybody else, but he could at least rebuild and try redemption.

He swallowed hard, and it hurt to make the effort-but he had to. He was prepared to do it, whatever the consequence. however it might hurt him. For the first time in many years, his will hardened into a resolve: he would fight-not for himself, but for the people he had hurt the most.

Although Annie wanted to silence him forever, she made a wrong move that would haunt her all her life. The resolve in Adam Hersel's heart burned deeper than the fear and pain racing through his body. His body lay limp on the bed of the hospital, but his brain was razor-sharp. She had taken away his voice, but she would never be able to take away the truth.

His eyebrows furrowed, and through the haze of pain, weight settled upon his resolution. He was done running from his past, done hiding behind lies and cowardice that once defined him. He had wronged many people, but none more deserving of justice than Mrs. Emma Black and the other grieving parents who deserved to know who was really responsible for the accident.

As his thoughts coalesced into a plan, the door to his hospital room creaked open. First, a nurse stepped inside; then a police officer followed closely. Showing no emotion on his face, the officer regarded him; but the nurse's eyes widened in surprise at the realization he was awake. She flew to his bedside, quick professional motions, asking a string of questions

Adam tried to answer, to say words, but nothing came out. His throat was on fire while he struggled to speak, but only silence met his efforts. The nurse's face tensed, her lips pressed into a thin line. It was what the medical team had feared-he had lost his voice forever. Panic clawed at his chest. His voice might be gone, but it had never been more potent. He turned his head in the direction of the policeman-all pleading intensity, his eyes locking with those of the man. If he couldn't speak, at least he could write-but considering what happened to him in prison, he couldn't count on the police either.

and paper. The nurse, who was already hesitant, turned to look. at the officer, who curtly nodded. She then

in his hand, and every motion was like a torturing travail; he persisted. The words came laboriously; letters unsteady and unsure but he never backed

to Mrs. Emma Black," the nearly spent man had written across in huge

to blur. The edges of the world dulled as exhaustion and pain overtook him. The note fell from his hand

on to one hope. Emma would see his note, Emma Black would come and

picked up the note, scanning her eyes over the message. She turned to the officer with a somber look

outside her window, yet with that first hint of faintest streaks that showed the approach of morning. She had hardly slept that night, as her mind

restroom, er heart pounded in her chest, not from guilt or regret but from the determination that had driven her

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Chapter 95

of nausea, making sure the muffled sound

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toilet, her hand shaking slightly as she forced it down her throat. Her body reacted immediately. heaving violently as she purged the contents of her stomach. The sound of her retching echoed loudly in the small space, exactly as she intended. She winced as her stomach clenched again and again, her throat

been loud enough for Alexander to hear her. As the final wave of nausea-real this time-subsided, she leaned against the cold bathroom tiles, her chest heaving and tears prickling