Lahat ng Kabanata ng After I Died, He Truly Panicked: Kabanata 391 - Kabanata 400

Maxwell’s POVThe first hearing for the fraud case had felt like standing at the edge of a storm I’d been running from for years.Only this time, I wasn’t the one being accused, I was there to defend the woman I’d once condemned.Jonathan sat beside me, fingers tapping lightly on his folder as the judge read through the opening notes of the case.Patel was on my right, silent and unreadable as always, but his eyes flickered toward the prosecution with the same sharpness I’d come to rely on.Across the aisle sat the prosecutors, smug and composed.“Your honor,” Jonathan said evenly, “we’d like to present an expert analysis regarding the forged signatures used to frame the Kingsman Group and Ms. Regina Veyron six years ago.”He nodded to the man behind us, a handwriting expert from London, one of the best. He stepped forward, calm and precise, like a surgeon entering an operating room.I watched the courtroom quiet down, everyone waiting to see the evidence.On the screen, side-by-side

Regina’s POVJonathan managed to get us in. Barely.It had taken weeks of legal maneuvering, a lot of quiet negotiation, and even more of Maxwell’s influence.Serenity Wellness Center had always been the kind of place that made its own rules. But when Jonathan called that morning and said, “They’ve finally approved the visit,” I’d felt my pulse skip.Now, standing outside those sterile white gates again, every nerve in my body screamed to run. The air smelled the same, faint antiseptic and something sweeter beneath, like rotting flowers.Maxwell noticed my hesitation. He touched my arm gently.“We don’t have to go in if it’s too much,” he said softly.I shook my head. “I need to see her. I need to know what they’ve done to her.”He nodded once and signaled to Jonathan, who exchanged a few words with the attendant at the front desk.Within minutes, we were led down a corridor that might as well have been frozen in time, the same flickering fluorescent lights, the same echo of our foots

Regina’s POVThe soft hum of the cooling fan filled the silence of Alexander’s study. It was the only sound for the last twenty minutes while we waited for one of Alexander’s contacts to give us access to father’s old drive.Alexander had been trying for the past couple of days but he hadn't been successful. He only had one option left that would give quicker results.Yes, he had asked someone to hack into the device.The sudden ping made me spring up from my chair.I leaned closer to the screen and sure enough, there were the files from father’s drive.The folder tree bloomed across the screen with years’ worth of files, labeled by dates that stretched back before we were even born.We exchanged a look.“Alright,” he murmured, clicking open the first folder. “Let’s see what you’ve been hiding, Father.”Inside were scans of letters, images of old business contracts, and dozens of photos. I moved closer, peering at the screen as Alexander clicked through.The first image stopped me col

Regina’s POVI was in the living room, sitting by the wide window where the afternoon light spilled in, dull and tired, when I heard the sound of engines outside, more than one.At first, I thought maybe Alexander had called for extra security again. The last few weeks had left all of us on edge.But then came the slam of car doors. Heavy footsteps on the gravel. Voices, sharp, commanding.“Open up! Police!”The teacup slipped from my hand and shattered on the floor.By the time I reached the hallway, Alexander was already there, half-blocking the door. His face was pale but composed. My mother stood behind him, one trembling hand covering her mouth.The front door burst open before Alexander could even touch the lock. Four officers entered, followed by a man in a dark coat with a warrant in his hand. Their boots echoed against the marble tiles.“Franklin Veyron?” the officer called out.My father appeared at the top of the stairs, calm as ever. His hand rested on the rail, his brow f

Regina’s POVWhen I was finally allowed into the visitors’ section of the detention center, I couldn’t tell if my hands were trembling from the cold or from the fear. Maybe both.It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen my father in difficult moments before, sickness, anger, even defeat, but seeing Frank Veyron, the man who had built empires and commanded boardrooms, sitting behind reinforced glass in a gray jumpsuit… that was something my mind struggled to process.A guard motioned me toward one of the booths. “You’ll have twenty minutes,” he said curtly. “Don’t pass anything through the slot.”I nodded, clutching my handbag closer, though I had nothing to give except questions… questions I wasn’t sure I wanted answers to.When I sat down, my father was already there, his wrists cuffed, his expression unreadable. His once-pristine white hair looked disheveled, and there were dark shadows under his eyes. But even so, his posture remained straight, proud, almost defiant.“Regina,” he said, his voi