Dear Ex-wife Marry Me novel (Maja) novel Chapter 1521

What belief?

Maja couldn't guess, not after hearing those words. She was too far gone to stay calm.

She took a deep breath. "So how do we communicate with her?"

Right now, communication was the biggest hurdle. Cynthia recoiled from any human contact, going into a state of distress with just a touch.

And she couldn't hear if they spoke.

The doctor lifted a hand to massage his temple. "We haven't figured that out yet. We'll see if the engineering team can break through the basement's defenses. Until then, we're being monitored around the clock."

He gestured to their surroundings.

Standing up, Maja scanned the area. "Can't we just cut the power?"

The engineering team shook their heads, clearly frustrated. "We can cut power everywhere on the island, but this circuit is isolated. The main switch is encased in a solid steel box. We've tried shooting it, explosives, nothing damages it. Plus, it's got backup from wind, solar, you name it."

Maja's impatience grew.

Meanwhile, Cynthia leaned against the wall, her forehead slick with sweat.

Just knowing there were people around her was overwhelming, covering her in sweat.

A chain was still clamped around her ankle. As she slid off the bed to move around, the clanking of the chain dragged across the floor, echoing in the room.

Maja sat on the bed, suddenly feeling defeated.

Especially after watching Cynthia navigate to the bathroom with such familiarity, it was clear she knew the basement like the back of her hand. No one knew how many years she'd been confined. Her skin was unnaturally pale.

The engineering team continued their inspection, and the doctor reviewed the notes he'd taken.

After a few minutes of silence, the bathroom door opened, and Cynthia slowly emerged.

As long as no one touched her, she could pretend they didn't exist.

Maja tried again. "Have we tried Braille? Just a few simple words, she might be able to understand that."

"Ms. Pennyfeather," the doctor begun, "we've attempted that as well. No matter what we present her with, she won't cooperate. She—"

"What is it?"

"Three of her fingers show signs of reattachment."

"What do you mean?"

"Someone had severed her three fingers once, then immediately stitched them back on."

Maja inhaled sharply, feeling a surge of rage in her chest.

So now, Cynthia, with her traumatic stress disorder, refused all human contact.

She also had a history of having her fingers cut off when trying to receive something.

They were at a standstill.

"Ms. Pennyfeather, there are only two options now. One, the engineering team figure out the design of this room, and we remove her from this environment. In her mind, being here means she has to live by the rules she's learned. Away from here, her rationality might return for the most part. Two, we find the device that can communicate with her, but chances are it's with the puppet master behind all this."

She remembered Quentin's remains and hurried back to where they had spent the last night. But the building was now rubble, the smell of gunpowder still hanging in the air.

She tried to recall the exact spot, wanting to retrieve what was left of the bones.

But the debris was too much for one person to clear.

Standing there, helpless, her mind went to the children back at the Outer Island orphanage.

She ran forward, tripped, and fell.

What tripped her was a corpse, hidden in the underbrush, beyond recognition, covered in wounds.

Maja's brow furrowed. She thought to leave but felt something tug at her conscience.

She stopped and began to dig in the earth.

Her fingers hurt from digging, so she used broken planks to continue.

After digging a half-meter-deep grave, she pushed the body in.

As it fell, a small object fell from the mouth - a tiny stone.

She didn't look closely, unable to distinguish the corpse's features, and quickly covered it with dirt.

After covering the grave, she ran toward the Outer Island orphanage without looking back.

The makeshift grave lay there, solitary, with no one to know who lay beneath.