All Chapters of After I Died, He Truly Panicked: Chapter 171 - Chapter 180

Regina’s POVThe letter of the court sat on my desk, a stark white rectangle against the polished mahogany.It held the date for Morgana’s arraignment, a small victory, I supposed, a step toward justice.What Agent Williams had said was still in the back of my mind, about the insanity plea. But proving it can’t be that easy, right?However, the court letter wasn't the reason for the heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach. At least not the entire reason.Most of it was all thanks to Frederick.I glanced at my watch, then back at the letter.The court date was terrifyingly close. But my mind couldn't focus on it, not with the mess Frederick had made.I had called Lindsay, to clear the air, to salvage a friendship I valued more than anything. She was due any minute.My fingers traced the outline of the court letter, but my thoughts were miles away, replaying the scene in my office.Frederick's lips on mine, the shock, and then the sight of Lindsay's face, a mask of hurt and accusation.A

Maxwell’s POVI got out of the meeting, my mind still buzzing with numbers and projections, and the first thing I did was check my phone.A knot of dread tightened in my stomach when I saw her name.Regina.The screen was a bright, blinking nightmare of missed calls, a dozen of them, all in the last hour. My heart immediately started to race.Did something happen again? Were the kids safe? Did something happen to her?I remembered the memory of Regina coming into my office, telling me about Mia, about what Morgana had done.Has something like that happened again?A cold, hard fear settled over me.I called her back instantly. The phone rang for what felt like an eternity before she picked up, her voice a fragile whisper. “Maxwell?”“Regina. I know. I just saw the missed calls. I was in a meeting. My phone was silent?" The questions tumbled out of me, a frantic, worried torrent. “What’s going on? Why are you calling me so many times?”“Maxwell, I–I thought–,” she breathed, the sound so

Regina’s POVMy mind spun, chasing a hundred different outcomes, none of them good.How do I defend myself in the face of such pictures? People just need a nudge to paint an entire story.If these pictures would leak to the media, I’m afraid the chaos it would cause… I wouldn’t be able to come back from it.Every muscle in my body screamed at me to panic, to break down, but I forced myself to put on a mask.I’d learned long ago that showing fear to Sandra Chamberlain was like bleeding in the water, she’d only come in closer for the kill.I straightened my back, ignoring the tremor in my hands. “What exactly are these pictures supposed to prove?” I asked, forcing my tone into something resembling calm.Sandra’s lips curved into that icy little smirk of hers. “They prove plenty. I could take this to court tomorrow and make a very strong case for custody rights. Let’s not forget, these could have both you and Maxwell on record for being mentally unstable. And while under your care, your

Regina’s POVThe air in Frederick’s office was a sterile, unsettling quiet, a stark contrast to the frantic chaos that had become my life.I had come to Saint Mary’s Private Hospital, a place that felt both safe and dangerous, drawn by a desperate need for answers.My hands were clammy as I sat in the big leather chair, waiting for Frederick. The death certificate, the photos, Sandra’s threats–it all felt like a movie I was trapped in, and I needed the director to explain the plot. I needed Frederick to tell me the whole truth, to fill in the horrifying blanks of my fake death.I had put what Sandra was demanding to the back of my head for now.Right now, it was time for Frederick to answer some questions.He was in surgery, the receptionist had said, so I was left to my own devices.I tried to focus on the tasteful art on the walls, the framed degrees that spoke of Frederick’s esteemed career as the chief of trauma surgery.But my mind was a whirlwind of questions. Who was sending th

Maxwell’s POVSeeing them like this, it felt like something inside me finally snapped.Not in a bad way, not like glass breaking, but more like a tightly wound spring finally giving way.The tension I hadn't realized I'd been holding, a knot of resentment and anger, just came undone.Regina was sitting on the floor of the bedroom, a storybook open on her lap, and Ivan was curled up beside her.She was also FaceTiming Mia while Ivan had his head resting on her thigh, half-asleep, his tiny fingers clutching the hem of her shirt.It was such a simple, perfect picture. It was the same kind of warmth I’d seen in a hundred paintings, a thousand movie scenes, and yet it felt completely alien to me, something I’d never experienced in my own life.Just an hour ago, Ivan had been rubbing his eyes and yawning, asking for a bedtime story. And then he’d said it, just as I was about to go fetch one of my books from the shelf.“I want my mommy.”The words had hit me hard. Not because he said it, but