Heartstrings on Fire novel Chapter 1165

Agnes's voice trailed off, her heart sinking as Kearney let out a dismissive chuckle. It was clear he didn't believe a word she said. Feeling a chill run down her spine, Agnes finished her plea, only for Kearney to retort, "What a fanciful tale you've spun. It's laughable, really. He's the villain of the story, and yet you paint him as a saint. That might fly with a toddler, but you're seriously underestimating me if you think I'd buy that."

"Why do you automatically dismiss my story as fiction?" Agnes fired back. "Your version is secondhand at best. You were only three at the time; what could you possibly remember? Why would you take the word of outsiders over the man who's been like a father to you for over twenty years?"

Kearney replied with unsettling calm, "I'd love to believe your fairy tale, but these are my mother's words. Are you saying she lied?"

Agnes was stunned. Kearney's mother? She was speechless. Wasn't Kearney's mother long dead, having passed away shortly after Lyman did? How could she have possibly shared these stories? And even if she did, how could Kearney, so young at the time, remember them so vividly, let alone take them to heart? Agnes refused to believe it.

But Kearney's patience was wearing thin. "Septima, spare me the defense. The man's a monster, and I'll see to it he gets what he deserves. As for you, stay put and don't cause trouble. I won't make things too hard for you, but you'll witness firsthand what happens to him. Don't even think about running or making my life difficult, or I'll make yours a living hell."

With that, Kearney stood up and strode into the elevator. Agnes felt a premonition of looming disaster. Was he about to act? After two failed attempts, was this his third and final plan to commit murder? Her heart raced with fear. But more than that, Agnes worried she might be used as a pawn in Kearney's game.

Her mind was in turmoil, but she had no time to sort through her thoughts. At that moment, Jarvis lay in a cage, barely clinging to life. "Jarvis, come on, wake up," Agnes pleaded, tapping the cage. But there was no response. Fear gripped her as she checked for any sign of breath from Jarvis. A faint breath reassured her, if only slightly.

What was she to do now? Jared would be worried sick if he couldn't reach her. What would Kearney do next? In the basement's timeless gloom, Agnes had no idea how long she'd been there. Yet, someone regularly brought meals down. Jarvis finally woke up, but he was so weak he could barely blink, let alone speak.

The person delivering food was Herbert, Kearney's right-hand man. "Please, can you open the cage? He's dying," Agnes begged. Herbert's response was cold. "Mr. Kearney said if he dies, so be it. He never intended for him to live. Miss Septima, don't bother."

Agnes was furious. "How can you be so heartless? He's a human being!" But as the words left her mouth, Agnes realized how naive she sounded. These people treated human life like it was nothing. Pleading with them was as futile as serenading the deaf.