The Runaway Groom

Chapter 438

Nonetheless, James hurried to Isaac’s side. “Sir.”

Isaac glanced at him briefly and asked, “Did you find a place?”

“Yes, sir,” James replied. “We can use it in a couple days.”

“Good.” Isaac remained impassive.

At the same time, James turned toward the man with them, who was dressed formally over his exceedingly fair skin. Also, there was something shady about that face even though he clearly appeared solemn.

“Sir, who is this gentleman?”

Isaac did not answer, and instead headed straight inside the operating room with the man.

James followed, curious.

The man first put down his box and opened it, taking out a pair of gloves and wearing it before pulling off the sheet placed over Irene’s head.

He frowned when he saw the face. “…I don’t think I can do anything here. Burn scars only regenerate on living tissue, but if she’s dead, I can’t restore her face.”

In reality, he was the best mortician Isaac had found to reconstruct cadavers so that they would look their best before they were buried.

Despite his specialty in reinvigorating cold bodies and bestowing upon them eternal beauty, he was shaking his head. “The damage is too extensive. I can’t do much here.”

and there was a brief flash of disappointment in his

even die with the way she looked

“I’d suggest moving her to

an ice casket if you don’t want to leave

would just put

here is going to make her

was not as if Isaac

once Irene’s body was placed in a casket, he would lose whatever

her to the morgue was a declaration to all that she was

refused to confront

that as it may, present circumstances prevented him from lying to himself.

spoke almost inaudible, “Get it done, James. Now leave

not restore Irene’s face, he

however, Isaac’s

the high–and–mighty bigwig who

turned out that he felt pain and misery too.

that pain was profound, suffocating and

while the mortician fixed up Irene’s body however he could. He

when Ricky Spencer

body. “No. No way, it can’t be her…” he murmured, and grabbed the hem of James’s shirt. “It’s not Irene, right? How could that ugly thing be her? My sister is

and clasped a hand over

happened, but the people who were there saw the explosion, and she was in the middle of it. They also fished her out of the river immediately afterward, so there’s no mistaking it–we all wish it was otherwise, but it’s reality. She’s

us.”