Contract Over: You're Free to Go のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 311 - チャプター 320

The old fluorescent light overhead flickered twice with a brief electric crackle, then went completely dark.As expected, the transformer in Brickstone Alley had tripped during the thunderstorm.The apartment plunged into absolute darkness, save for the lightning flashes outside the window that occasionally cast distorted shadows through the room."It's a common old apartment problem. Guess we'll have to wait until the storm clears before the power grid crew comes to fix it," Silas murmured into the darkness, standing by the window.He pulled out his phone and switched on the flashlight."Avery? The power's out. Stay on the bed and don't move. I'll find some candles."Holding the phone, Silas swept the beam toward the single bed. The light landed on the mattress, where the blanket was tossed messily to one side, with the architecture magazine still open on top.The bed was empty.His heart sank."Avery?" His voice instinctively pitched high, laced with a hint of panic.He imm

The thunderstorm beyond the windows had quietly died down at some point.The violent wind and rain that had seemed capable of flipping the entire city apart subsided into a dense, soft drizzle. Rainwater trickled down the old aluminum window frame, tapping rhythmically against the sill.The phone tossed on the floor finally ran out of power. Its flashlight flickered twice before the screen went completely black.Avery had stopped crying.The traumatic stress response triggered by the thunder had finally ebbed away like a receding tide under Silas' steady heartbeat and gentle reassurance. Now, only the occasional, uncontrollable hiccups made her sound like a little kid. The darkness amplified every tactile sensation.Silas' bandaged hands carefully cupped Avery's cheeks. The gauze was slightly rough, carrying a faint antiseptic smell. But the warmth of his palms seeped through the thin medical cotton and transferred onto her cool skin without restraint."Are you feeling better?"

When the first rays of the morning sun cut through the dirty glass windows of the apartment and hit the floor, Avery's body clock woke her right on time.She opened her eyes and stared blankly at the yellowing ceiling for five full minutes. Logic and memories came rushing back into her mind, followed by an overwhelming wave of embarrassment.Last night, right here on this terrazzo floor, in a tiny apartment with barely enough room to turn around, she had been so terrified of a thunderclap that she had crawled into a fabric wardrobe.As if hiding in a wardrobe wasn't enough, she had clung to Silas and bawled her eyes out."God, this is embarrassing…" she wailed silently, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into thin air.She yanked the blanket completely over her face and desperately tried to pretend that last night was nothing more than a vivid hallucination.But her sense of smell couldn't be fooled. She could smell Silas all over the blankets, pillows, and even the oversized,

The sharp scent of disinfectant in the emergency room of City Memorial Hospital was far from pleasant.The nurse changing Silas' bandages was a chatty woman in her 50s with a wine-red perm, working with practiced efficiency.As she snipped away the yellowed, water- and oil-stained gauze wrapped around his wrists, she kept shooting Avery pointed looks."You young people these days really go all out when you fall in love. His hands are badly burned, yet you still let him cook."Look at you, all pretty and polished. How could you be so careless?"Using a pair of tweezers, the nurse picked up a cotton swab soaked in iodine and mercilessly dabbed it onto Silas' wound.He sucked in a quiet breath and instinctively tried to pull his hand back, but she pinned it down immediately.Rubbing her nose, Avery cast a guilty sideways glance at Silas, then murmured under her breath, "How was I supposed to know what got into him to cook an omelet first thing in the morning?""Even if he lost his

Three months had passed since the fire at the shipyard that had nearly claimed everyone's lives.Summer arrived right on schedule in Bellmere, along with the racket of cicadas beyond the windows loud enough to make anyone restless.In the VIP suite of Bellmere's top-tier private hospital on the outskirts, the air conditioning was blasting, and the room was so quiet one could hear a pin drop.Teresa sat in a spacious, custom-made wheelchair, both legs encased in heavy casts and propped stiffly on the footrests. They looked almost like two overproofed baguettes.She wore a loose silk robe today. Her hair was casually gathered at the back of her head with a hairpin.Compared to her former self, the aggressive, sharp edge she used to carry seemed to have been significantly blunted by three months of soaking in antiseptic and hospital air.The door to the ward remained firmly shut.Every day, the hallway was full of elderly board members and business partners arriving with expensive