All Chapters of After I Died, He Truly Panicked: Chapter 311 - Chapter 320

Maxwell’s POVI hadn’t meant the words to sound the way they did. They had spilled out of me raw, heavy, like something dredged up from the depths of my own guilt and shame.I hadn’t been the reason behind Frederick’s accident, I knew that. And yet, in the quiet of the night, when it was just her and me, I’d let the thought slip, how my interference had led to this mess, how if I’d done things differently, maybe he wouldn’t be lying in that hospital bed, unmoving, unresponsive.But I hadn’t known Alexander was there.“You tried to kill Frederick?” His voice boomed through the entryway, and my body turned rigid.My heart jolted painfully against my ribs. I turned to face him, my mouth going dry, the words I wanted to speak suddenly trapped in my throat. His frame filled the doorway like some avenging figure, his eyes blazing as though I’d just handed him the final piece of evidence he needed to condemn me.“Wait,” I croaked, my voice breaking. For the first time in years, I actually st

Maxwell’s POVMy first instinct was to shove the hand off my shoulder, but the grip was like steel. I twisted, clawing for the cloth pressed over my eyes that had plunged me into darkness.“Get the hell off—”I didn’t finish. A fist slammed into my stomach, knocking the air out of me in a violent rush. I doubled over, clutching at my ribs, my breath coming in sharp, strangled gasps.What the hell was happening? I thought it’s be just like going in and out of a security room. Not having the breath knocked out of me.“Damn,” a rough voice muttered above me, tinged with irritation. “Thought it’d be easier than this.”Through clenched teeth, I rasped, “Who the hell are you?”The man ignored my question, his grip tightening as he yanked me upright. “Who sent you here?”My mind scrambled for a lie, but every option felt dangerous. I could claim no one sent me, but then why would I be sneaking around Saint Mary’s back entrance? No… this wasn’t the time for games.I forced out the truth. “Cha

Maxwell’s POVI stayed crouched in the dark until Larry swore that Mr. Harper was truly gone. His voice was hushed, almost shaken, when he muttered, “He’s out. I swear it. You can come out now.”I emerged from the shadows, my shirt clinging to my back with sweat. My knees felt weak, my lungs burned, and all I could think about was a hot shower and the familiar safety of my own apartment. But I couldn’t leave.Not yet.“Delete it,” I said, my voice harsher than I intended.Larry looked at me, his face caught in the dim glow of the monitors. He blinked once, slowly, then shook his head. “Can’t do that.”My jaw tightened. “What do you mean you can’t do that? You have the access, you’re in the system—just wipe it clean.”“I told you already,” he said, leaning back in his chair, almost too calm. “The wipes? The deletions you saw earlier? That wasn’t me. That was someone else—someone with clearance. I don’t tamper with security files unless I want to lose my job and maybe my kneecaps, if yo

Maxwell’s POVI cursed under my breath. Of all the people I could have run into in the damn hospital parking lot, it had to be him.Mr. Harper stood like a wall in front of me, polished suit immaculate, posture ramrod straight. Even under the harsh glow of the fluorescent lights, his presence carried weight, commanding, suspicious, and dangerous.And me? I probably looked like hell. My shirt was wrinkled, my tie loose, my hair sticking up in directions from the scuffle with Larry. My knuckles still ached. I forced myself to smooth my jacket down and ran a hand through my hair, trying to piece myself into something resembling composure.I had lost most of my wits when Mr. Harper came to the security room. It almost felt like he came because he knew he’d find me there. Has this been a setup all along?But if it was a setup, then Larry would have given me up immediately.I sighed before I walked over to him, knowing pretending that I didn’t see him would be worse.“Mr. Harper,” I said wi

Regina’s POVThe morning air still clung to me when I walked into the building, the faint smell of fresh rain carried with me from outside.I’d dropped Mia off at school just twenty minutes earlier, and for once she hadn’t clung to me at the gate. That small victory gave me a little optimism, something rare these days. With three days until Morgana’s trial, I needed every shred of hope I could hold on to.I balanced the tray of coffee cups in my hands, my knuckles aching from how tightly I gripped it. One for me. One for Maxwell. My peace offering. My bribe. My attempt at comfort all wrapped in one.The glass doors to his office were already cracked open, and voices spilled out. His low, gruff one and a lighter, feminine tone. Clara Greene. The head architect. Even without stepping inside, I could picture her sharp chin tilted just so, her perfect manicured nails pointing out something on one of her endless design charts. Clara had always looked like she walked straight out of a gloss