My Birthday, My Downfall novel Chapter 76

Panic surged through her veins. She bit the guard's hand hard, making him yelp and loosen his grip. Seizing the chance, she grabbed her whistle and blew it.

It barely made a sound before the guard tackled her again.

Meanwhile, Ella crawled toward the man, pretending to grab him.

“James, run! Save yourself!”

Right on cue, the knife flashed. Blood splattered across the screen.

James' heart pounded like a drum. He bolted toward the screen, desperate to pull it away—

But Ella clung to his legs, sobbing theatrically. “James! I'm hurt! Save me! It hurts so bad!”

James' brain short-circuited. He glanced at Ella, then at the silent screen.

Gritting his teeth, he scooped up Ella and charged out the door, leaving everything behind.

Zoe, pinned behind the screen, felt her world crumble.

“James… save me…”

Her voice was a whisper. The searing pain in her throat robbed her of consciousness.

As the lights blurred, she clutched the whistle tightly, but it was too late.

The blood-soaked whistle dangled in Zoe's hand as her mind drifted back to that night when she'd just turned 18.

James had burst into the private room like an action hero, single-handedly rescuing her from the men trying to hurt her.

He'd been bruised and bloody, but he still managed to clasp the whistle around her neck, saying, “Zoe, as long as you blow this, I'll come running.”

She had blown it this time.

But where was he?

James, I think I'm dying.

And I'll never forgive you. Not now. Not ever.

Her vision blurred as she spotted a pair of polished leather shoes walking toward her. Then, darkness.

When Zoe woke up three days later, everything was white.

Someone was holding her hand, but her neck was too stiff to let her see who it was.

She wiggled her fingers, and a familiar face—one she'd dreamed of countless times—came into view.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to call out his name. Her throat burned like fire, and no sound came out.

Joshua.

Her Joshua.

He gently traced the scar on her palm and asked, “Does it still hurt?”

It was the first thing he'd said to her since she “got him killed.”

His second line? “It won't hurt anymore, Zoe.”

That did it. Zoe broke down, sobbing uncontrollably.

“I'm sorry, Joshua. I'm so sorry…” she mouthed.

But before she could say more, he pressed a finger to her lips.

“Zoe, you have to come to Club A tomorrow, 17th floor. I've got a surprise for you,” James said eagerly.

“Okay,” Zoe replied, her voice raspy and hoarse.

James froze for a moment, the memory of that chaotic night flashing in his mind.

But he quickly shook it off. Zoe couldn't have been there. If she had been, she wouldn't still be alive.

After sending her a few thousand bucks and hearing her responses, he felt reassured.

Behind him, Ella wrapped herself around him like a snake, her fingers wandering.

“Don't look for me for the next few days,” James snapped, swatting her away. “I need to focus on Zoe.”

The next morning, Zoe passed James in the hospital lobby.

Joshua was pushing her wheelchair, and they brushed right by him.

James froze, clutching his chest as unease gnawed at him. He glanced back, his eyes narrowing at the oddly familiar pair.

But before he could figure it out, he shrugged it off and left.

Meanwhile, Zoe boarded a private plane with Joshua.

She crushed her old ID and SIM card underfoot, tossing the pieces into the trash.

“Joshua, let's go.”

As the plane ascended, Zoe fingered the small necklace made from her parents' ashes.

Mom, Dad, we're starting over now. Together.