Dear Ex-wife Marry Me novel (Maja) novel Chapter 1522

Maja stumbled towards the general direction where the past had unfolded, only to find devastation greater than her darkest imaginations.

The yard that once stood was long gone, the area not even qualifying as ruins anymore. All that remained were outlines of the old foundations scattered on the ground.

It was clear that a shell had hit the yard squarely. If anyone had been inside, judging by the ferocity of the blast, it was likely they were vaporized, leaving behind neither limb nor fragment, but only a mist of blood.

Her heart clenched painfully, and she squatted down to plant a small wooden cross in the desolate earth before shuffling away, her soul a heavy shadow trailing behind her.

Beck was waiting for her right where the helicopter had touched down. Seeing her ashen face, he quickly handed her an oxygen tank.

"Is the air bothering you here?" he asked.

Maja shook her head, her pallor visibly deepening.

Beck helped her aboard the helicopter, and they didn't return to the hospital where Ian was until dusk.

Sitting in the corridor, Maja felt a pounding headache.

When the doctor finally emerged, she quickly inquired, "How is he?"

"Strong will to live. He should wake up by tomorrow."

Relief washed over her, but then the scenes she had witnessed on the island churned in her stomach.

She dashed to the bathroom in her hospital room and retched, but nothing came out.

Beck brought her dinner, insisting she eat.

"There are international agents investigating Forbidden Island, but the research base is well-hidden and will take time to uncover."

Knowing that professionals were on the case meant that she and Ian didn't have to go it alone.

That was one less headache.

"Beck, the moment you locate the research base, let me know. We can't delay Dad's matters any longer. And have you found Patric?"

Was Patric also a casualty of the bombing that night on Forbidden Island?

"No sign of him. Some of the bodies were blown to bits; it's impossible to tell if he's among the dead. No clues so far."

Maja leaned back against the cool wall, finding some comfort in its chill.

Beck opened a food container and placed a spoon in her hand.

"Eat, even if you don't want to. And later, get a full check-up."

After all, she was pregnant. It was a wonder the baby was still fine after all the turmoil. She must be incredibly lucky.

Maja managed a strained smile.

He nodded, pleased to see her eating, and left the room to message Dylan.

[I've done what I can. It's on you to mend fences now.]

Dylan hadn't returned to the Sanders estate and was still out and about, with little more than his phone to his name.

He was staying with Walter, who lounged in pajamas, swirling a glass of scotch.

"Never in a million dreams did I think I'd be harboring you," Walter mused.

Dylan set down the phone, saying little.

He was supposed to avoid reaching out to friends, but investigating the research base was an exception.

He hadn't touched any of the food Walter had offered.

A feast lay untouched on the dining table.

Walter set down his glass, tapping his fingers lightly on the wood.

"Come on, don't be so stubborn. Lobster and crab surely beat the instant food in your rental, right?"

The thought of Dylan, once a titan of North American wealth, relegated to subsisting on instant food in a run-down apartment, was almost too much for Walter. He had known Dylan for ages and had never seen him so down and out.