Isaac's first reaction to the text was to wonder who was playing a prank on him this time.
Harvey had pulled the same stunt just days ago but he was still abroad, so there was no chance of him
doing it again.
So who was doing this, and why? Still, despite knowing that it was a trick, Isaac replied anyway.
[In that case, tell me where she is.] He put down his phone after doing so, but his eyes were locked on
it.
At the depths of his heart, he somehow held hope that it was no trick, but a miracle instead.
It soon rang, and Isaac picked it up.
{I can tell you, but I want something in exchange.] Isaac remained calm as he read it, as if he had
expected that.
[Name it.]
[Release Ian Jefferson.]
[Sure.] After replying to the text, Isaac quickly called James, who soon answered his call.
"Find out who has been in touch with Ian recently," he growled.
"Okay," James replied.
Isaac hung up soon after, just as another text arrived.
[We will make the exchange at the Seventh Port.] Isaac's lips curled up in disdain—did they think they
could get away from the port? It was obvious they would try to escape by boat.
Nonetheless, he replied: [Sure.]
He was actually interested in seeing who wanted to save Ian.
Could it really be Greg Jefferson? Ian was his son, and it made sense if he did something.
Over at Blue Hill Asylum, Ian had basically given up.
On the other hand, Robin Lynd had spent months just to finally find him here.
She then took on a vacancy to start work as an employee in the asylum, and when she discovered that
Ian had been confined in a solitary cell, she used her performance and bribes to become the person
who fed him.
Ian had been refusing to eat in order to kill himself, but the asylum director had arranged for nutrient
injections just to stop him from dying.
Robin kept bringing him food every day, but he never touched it.
"You have to live.I promise I'll get you out of here," she whispered.
Ian slowly looked up at the door.
There was a small vent beneath where food was delivered through, but it was just more evidence that
he was living less than a dog —after all, dogs had freedom, but he did not.
He also failed to recognize who was calling for him.
Robin kept trying nonetheless.
"Ian, Ian..."
Finally, he opened his eyes, and exclaimed in surprise when he realized it was Robin, "H-How did you
get here?"
"To save you."
It sounded like a joke to Ian.
"You? Do you think you can beat Isaac Jefferson?"
He had lost everything to Isaac, while she was a woman who had trouble protecting herself.
"Trust me.I have a way,"
Robin promised confidently.
"What?"
"I texted him, saying that Irene survived and I know where she is...
“She's dead.He'd never believe you."
Ian immediately found her idea stupid.
On the other hand, Robin was convinced it would work—especially when it was running so smoothly.
"No, he bought it.
If there's one person who wishes she were alive, it's him—he even agreed to trade for your freedom,
just to find out where she is.
Ian laughed.
"You're an idiot.He's not that stupid even if he wishes for Irene Spencer to be alive—I heard that he
never cremated or buried her, and instead preserved her body.One DNA test, and he'll find out that
she's well and truly dead.Your plan is just going to collapse on itself."
Robin did not know about that and her confidence was at once deflated.
"What should I do, then?"
"Quit it already, Robin.You can't save me."
"No, I have to—and I'll do it."
Robin was watching him through the vent, even though she had to drop on all fours.
Ian suddenly felt that she was the greatest treasure he found in this life.She never gave up on him,
even if she had already fallen to such a wretched state.
"Thank you," he said, swearing to himself to do right by her if he got out.
"You were saying that Isaac would only be sure that it's Irene's corpse if he does a DNA test." Robin
stared at him expectantly.
"We still have a chance if he doesn't.Don't give up.Eat."
Ian looked at Robin in return.
If she had not given up, would it not be premature if he gave up already? "Alright, I'll eat."
Meanwhile, Isaac was spacing out on the couch, with Tommy playing with his toy dog on his lap.
He never doubted Irene's death.
His own people told him that Irene had been disfigured when they pulled her out of the water, and he
himself saw the body afterward.
But what if the body was not hers? Maybe? Just maybe...? He picked up his phone again to make
another call...
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