CHAPTER 8: CHAPTER 8: SHE’S NOT DEAD—WHERE IS SHE?

Justin Holden stared at her, shaking his head, "It’s not like that."

He stepped forward, reaching out to hold Claire Caldwell in his arms, but grasped at nothing. His body slammed against the shelf, causing a glass trophy to wobble and then crash, shattering all over the floor.

The broken glass cut his arm, leaving a bloodied gash, with bright red blood dripping down his long, alabaster fingers onto the light gray marble tiles.

The sting in his arm snapped him back to reality. He looked around in a daze, but there was no sign of Claire Caldwell.

He realized it was just a drunken hallucination.

The wind blew open the curtains by the floor-to-ceiling window, letting in a gust of cold air.

He sat on the sofa, absentmindedly picking up a pill bottle from the coffee table, unscrewing the cap, and pouring a few pills into his hand.

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down twice as he swallowed the pills dry.

The hard edges of the pills scraped his throat, causing more pain than the medication provided relief.

His whole body sunk into the single-seater sofa, one long arm draped over the armrest, legs naturally spread apart, finding a comfortable position.

With his eyes closed, his fine and straight eyelashes occasionally trembled, but he felt no drowsiness.

The floor-to-ceiling window gradually lightened, the deep blue of the bright night turning into the dull white of day, a whiteness that was irritating.

At four-thirty in the early morning, the sky brightened.

It had been a long time since Justin Holden had an episode like this; spending a sleepless night, his brain weary to the point of hallucinating.

He had dreamt of Claire Caldwell before, but never like this...

He felt that his illness had worsened.

By five in the morning, the Mercedes parked under the apartment building departed earlier than usual.

Justin Holden drove to a private clinic.

The female doctor closed the notebook in her hand, inserting the pen into it, and advised sternly, "Lawyer Holden, if you want to heal, you have to cooperate with the doctor."

The female doctor asked him many questions. His response was either to ask her to change the topic or to say things against his will.

This was a mental illness.

Justin Holden remained silent, turning to leave.

The female doctor stood behind him, suddenly remembering something, she said, "You saw her ghost last night; that was impossible, just your hallucination.

"If you’re convinced she’s come back to find you, you shouldn’t be looking for me; you should be consulting a seeress."

Justin Holden halted, his voice low and hoarse, "A seeress?"

"I’m teasing you, Senior Counselor Holden, can’t you tell?"

The female doctor shrugged, looking helplessly resigned since the patient wasn’t cooperating, how could she treat him?

"I don’t know about these things. Can a seeress make me see her while I’m sober?"

Justin Holden’s words didn’t sound like a joke.

The female doctor’s eyes widened in fright, she hurriedly asked, "You don’t intend to stay in a state of hallucination forever, do you? That could be fatal."

Justin Holden gave her a look but said nothing, turning to leave.

The female doctor watched his retreating figure with helplessness, regret, and concern. As his attending physician and longtime friend, she was well aware of the kind of feelings Justin Holden harbored for his former girlfriend, Claire Caldwell.

His love for her never waned, he had long been deeply entangled.

Without medication and regular hypnosis, it’s hard to say what he would have become in these five years.

Perhaps mad, mentally ill, or even a deranged murderer...

Fortunately, he came seeking her help rather than some hospital, where doctors would surely recommend hospitalization.

What hospital?

A psychiatric hospital.

She had used every ounce of her medical skills just to bring him around, so that with just the occasional pill, he appeared no different from an ordinary person.

She didn’t know what had happened these days, but it had undone all her years of effort on Lawyer Holden.

His condition had regressed back to square one.

Even more severe than before.

She dared not say whether Justin Holden, after leaving the clinic, would drive straight to a seeress. It was possible, but she hoped he retained some sense.

There’s no such thing as ghosts or gods in this world; it’s all inner demons.

The dead can’t come back to life; what he doesn’t understand isn’t this truth, but those emotions he can’t face.

After Justin Holden drove off, another car stopped outside the clinic, and out stepped a handsome young man, in a deep black suit, gentle and elegant, with a clean, large white coat draped over his elbow.

"Senior Sterling." The female doctor joyfully ran out, welcoming him in, asking, "Did you go to the sanatorium for a free clinic again? Why work so hard?"

Simon Sterling’s eyes were warm, smiling as he said, "Not hard at all. Recently, I met a girl at the sanatorium, she’s... very cute and interesting."

"What’s her name? How old is she? Where does she live?" The female doctor’s eyes sparkled, full of expectation.

"Jean Ellison." Simon Sterling kept a straight face, seriously saying, "You’re asking too many questions, we just met by chance."

"Just a chance meeting and Senior calls her cute and interesting, I’ve known you for twenty years, and you’ve never praised me like that."

Simon Sterling glanced down with a smile, not explaining, changing the subject, "Doesn’t our mentor praise you all the time? Still not enough?"

The female doctor pouted, tugging at his sleeve, unable to contain her curiosity, and continued to ask.

"Which auntie’s daughter is she from the sanatorium? I’ve never heard you mention her before."

She wanted to sneak a look, to see what kind of girl had caught Senior’s eye.

For more than twenty years, Senior had never had feelings for anyone, even their mentor suspected he might have secretly joined a monastery.

"She’s visiting Aunt Kingston, says she’s the daughter of Aunt Kingston’s friend."

"Aunt Kingston? You mean Director Caldwell’s wife, Claire Caldwell’s mother, Susan Kingston."

The female doctor was astonished, her eyes widening, swallowing her breath, as a chill ran down her spine.

Simon Sterling nodded, walking in ahead of her.

"Could it be... the ghost has really returned? No, it can’t be."

The female doctor muttered to herself, in those five years, no one had visited Susan Kingston, her own daughter died in prison, how could a girl suddenly appear, claiming to be a friend’s daughter?

"What are you thinking about?" Simon Sterling turned to see she hadn’t caught up.

"Nothing, you go in first, Senior, I’ve still got some matters to attend to,"

The female doctor hurried away, not quite sure where she was headed.

In a village near Kingswell City, a winding mountain road stretched ahead.

Here, there was a renowned seeress, said to be mystical, versed in the yin and yang.

"Grandma, we have a visitor."

The ones in charge of guiding guests to the seeress were the village children, three or five of them, chirping like little birds.

Justin Holden strode into the house, a narrow red-brick room, the exterior adorned with some bones, and inside were strange drawings.

On the table were several deity statues being worshipped, incense smoke wafting slowly upward.

The seeress, dressed in bizarre clothing, knelt on the mat, her disheveled, bushy hair reaching her waist, a hat woven from colorful threads on her head.

She muttered incomprehensible words, like incantations.

Standing in the doorway, Justin Holden appeared, but the seeress didn’t hear his footsteps, ceasing her chanting and joining her hands together, arranging the deity statues.

"The one you think of, their lifespan is not yet ended."

"The universe shifts, it’s all up to human effort."

The seeress spoke as if chanting, her articulation indistinct, each word ending with a tremor, as if possessed.

"You know what I’m going to ask?"

Justin Holden had just entered, standing behind her, and yet she seemed to already understand.

The seeress rose from the mat, offering incense to the statues before her, turning to look at him.

It was a very youthful face, round features, flawless skin, like an underage child.

"Noble one, before you arrived, the gods already informed me."

"Are you saying she isn’t dead?" Justin Holden’s tone was flat, eyebrows furrowed, "Then where is she now..."

The seeress shifted her gaze to the statues on the table, speaking excruciatingly slowly, "To find this person, one must feel with the heart, rather than look with the eyes, or listen with the ears."

The furrow in Justin Holden’s brow deepened, thin lips pressed into a straight line.

"Speak in more detail."

He took out two thousand dollars in cash from his briefcase, which he hadn’t used earlier at the prison, placing it on the table before the seeress.

The seeress’s eyes glimmered, she reached out to touch the red bills on the table, just about to speak when the door was suddenly pushed open with a bang.