By the time Hans returned, Petty had stopped throwing up.
Amy had arrived just minutes before him and was carefully wiping Petty's face with a damp towel. Jackson stood nearby, his eyes entirely bloodshot, silently cleaning the mess on the floor.
Hans rushed over, sitting on the edge of the bed and gently guiding Petty to lean against his shoulder.
Just like back in kindergarten. Whenever she finished her snacks and grew sleepy, they would sit side-by-side, and he would always offer his shoulder to catch her swaying head.
From kindergarten through elementary school, and even when she skipped grades...
He had always taken care of her this way.
Aside from the miserable two or three years she spent with Franco, drowning in the agony of love, Hans had never allowed her to suffer a single hardship.
When she worked at the TV station, he had personally arranged for someone to stock her office with all her favorite snacks and drinks.
He paid out of his own pocket to hire a Michelin-starred chef for the station's cafeteria.
When they traveled for field reports, he replaced their standard vehicles with luxury SUVs, outfitting them with the most lavish interiors—all just to make sure she was comfortable.
Seeing her broken like this, Hans's heart physically ached until he could barely breathe. "Don't be scared, you probably just ate too fast. We'll rest for a bit and try again later."
Petty leaned against him silently, tears streaming down her hollow face without a sound.
The drops fell onto Hans's hand, burning his skin like liquid magma.
...
"What exactly is wrong with her?"
Once Petty finally fell asleep, Hans sought out the psychiatrist brought in by Petty's lead doctor.
The moment he spoke, he realized his own voice was shaking uncontrollably.
Petty's condition was far beyond just having no appetite.
He was terrified he was going to lose her entirely.
The psychiatrist spoke with grave certainty. "Miss Petty has a documented history of severe insomnia and has relied heavily on sleeping pills. Given her current state, my diagnosis is Clinical Depression."
The word 'Depression' struck Hans like a brutal punch to the gut.
His mind reeled, convinced he had misheard. "Depression... how is that possible?"
But the doctor didn't waver. "Even though Miss Petty refuses to cooperate with my evaluations, I do not make misdiagnoses."
Clinical Depression.
The concept felt so foreign to him, and even more alien to Petty. She had always been so brilliant at self-regulating. He had never once had to worry about her emotional state.
"She is entirely broken right now, and it is entirely your fault!"
Hans didn't blame Franco for having Petty hypnotized back then, because he now realized she was already on the brink of suicide. Franco doing that was the only thing that kept her alive. Otherwise, she would have died five years ago.
But Hans furiously hated Franco for not going all the way!
He should have made her forget him completely!
"Your sick selfishness destroyed her!" Hans shoved Franco back with brutal force.
If not for Franco's selfish need to keep her in love with him, Petty wouldn't have given up her chance to go abroad. She wouldn't have stayed to care for him when he went blind. She wouldn't have recklessly insisted on marrying him, only to end up with her mind and body completely shattered.
Caught off guard and battered by his fresh wounds, Franco stumbled backward.
Jay and Galen instantly lunged forward to catch him.
But Franco violently shoved their hands away. He steadied himself, his face like stone, and silently moved toward the door. He was going to Petty's room.
"Are you trying to get her killed?!" Hans's voice was absolute ice.
He stared at Franco's back, his tone laced with lethal finality. "If you can't bring yourself to let her go, then stay the hell away from her. Because if you go in there, you will be the one who finally kills her."
The towering man froze dead in his tracks.

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