“Whitney, does your phone have a signal?” he suddenly asked, concern edging his tone.
Whitney, dazed and drenched in sweat, shook her head. “No, no signal.”
Carter sensed something was amiss. “Whitney, are you okay?”
Before she could respond, the elevator jolted again, sending a fresh wave of panic coursing through them.
“Ah!” Emily’s scream echoed in the confined space, pulling Carter’s attention entirely to her.
“Carter, I’m so scared. What if we can’t get out?” she whimpered, trembling against him, her fear overshadowing everything else.
Frowning, he dialed 911. “Hello, we’re trapped in an elevator at Starwave Entertainment, 88 Chiakiang Road.”
“How long do you think rescue will take?” he inquired, anxiety creeping into his voice.
After hanging up, he turned to Emily, his tone soothing. “It’s okay, don’t be scared. They said the firefighters will be here in ten minutes at most. Stay calm. I’m right here.”
No one noticed the pale woman standing behind them, her presence almost invisible in the darkness.
Whitney fought against the rising tide of panic; she wouldn’t allow herself to break down in front of them. She curled up, struggling to catch her breath.
The pitch-black space swallowed all light, and she couldn’t even see her own hand in front of her face.
It felt as if the walls were closing in, trapping her in a suffocating embrace. The pressure was overwhelming, making it nearly impossible to draw a breath.
She couldn’t hear the couple’s comforting words; even though they were so close, their voices felt like they were coming from a distant shore.
Helplessness and sorrow engulfed Whitney, and she didn’t dare to cry out loud.
Carter, caught up in Emily’s escalating fear, seemed to catch faint sobs from Whitney but was too absorbed in comforting Emily to process who else might be distressed.
“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry anymore. I’m here. I’ll always protect you. It’s alright, Milly, just be good,” he murmured, his voice a steady anchor amidst the chaos.
After what felt like an eternity, the elevator doors were finally pried open, flooding the space with light.
“Is everyone okay in there?” a voice called out, concern evident.
Carter waved his hand, relief washing over him. “We’re fine. Milly was really scared and needs to be rushed to the hospital.”
Suddenly recalling Whitney’s presence, he turned back to her, worry etched on his face. “Whitney, what about you? Are you alright?”
Whitney’s voice was thick with congestion, her strength waning. “I’m fine. No need to trouble you, Mr. Harris.”
‘Same as always. She’s always so tough,’ Carter thought, a frown tugging at his lips, though he didn’t press further. He allowed the firefighters to take Emily up first.
Then, noticing the administration manager nearby, he reminded him, “There’s someone else down here. Send someone to escort her back.”
Carrying Emily, he headed straight for the hospital, his mind racing.
Whitney’s legs trembled beneath her, and the administration manager recognized her as the lawyer from PrimeBridge Law Firm, his concern evident. “Ms. Moore, are you alright?”
Whitney shook her head, weary but resolute. “I’m fine. Could you help me over to a seat? That’s all I need.”
Meanwhile, Lena was admiring flowers in the Harris Manor’s garden when she received the call.
Without hesitation, she switched her phone to speaker mode. “Hey, Whit, miss me already after just one day?”
“Lena,” Whitney’s voice came through weak and strained. “Can you come to Starwave Entertainment? I’m on the nineteenth floor.”
“What happened?” Lena’s voice rose in alarm. “Whit, are you okay? Hang tight. I’m coming right now.”
Though she didn’t know the full extent of Whitney’s troubles, the tremor in her friend’s voice sent a chill down her spine.
Just as Klein stepped out of the car, he noticed his flustered niece. “Lena, where are you going?”
“Uncle Klein, Whit seems to be in trouble. I’m going to find her.”
Klein’s heart raced, fingers twitching with concern. “Don’t worry. I’ll go with you.”
A gnawing sense of unease enveloped Lena after that phone call. The brief conversation had left her feeling unsettled, her mind racing with thoughts she couldn’t quite articulate. She had hoped to find solace in Klein’s presence, a small comfort to help her navigate the turmoil inside her. Yet, the moment she caught sight of him, those words she had prepared to say vanished, swallowed by an inexplicable hesitation.
Klein was behind the wheel, his deep-set eyes marred by fine red veins that hinted at sleepless nights and unspoken burdens. He looked like a man who had been wrestling with shadows of his own.
“Lena,” he said, his voice gravelly, the last syllable quivering as if it carried the weight of his thoughts. “Text her and tell her we’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“But Uncle Klein,” Lena protested softly, confusion lacing her tone, “it’s at least a forty-minute drive to Carter’s company.”
Before she could elaborate, his voice cut through the air again, low and rough, “Just twenty minutes.”
As they sped through the familiar route from Harris Manor to downtown, it felt as if the world outside had conspired to keep them moving swiftly. Only a sleek black Maybach sliced through the stillness of the night, a solitary figure racing against time.
At precisely nineteen minutes, Lena and Klein stepped out of the car. Lena had barely closed the door when she noticed Whitney, a tall, fragile figure, striding briskly towards the office building, her posture betraying the turmoil within.
Whitney had buried her head deep into her knees, the trembling of her body a stark contrast to the stillness of the night around her. She had been waiting out here for what felt like an eternity, and panic had taken root in her chest. If she hadn’t reached that breaking point, she would never have picked up the phone to call Lena.
But this was Carter’s company, and she couldn’t let him see her in such a vulnerable state. Besides, he had left long ago, taking with him the light of his life, Emily. In that moment, she felt a wave of sorrow wash over her, a tempest of fear and sadness that threatened to overwhelm her.
“Lena!” she gasped, her breath quickening as she recognized her friend. “Are you okay?”
At the sound of that familiar voice, Whitney’s carefully constructed facade crumbled. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and her voice trembled as she replied, “Lena, you’re here. I’m fine. It’s just… my legs feel weak. I can’t stand.”
“Uncle Klein, what do we do?” Lena’s voice was edged with worry, her eyes darting to Klein, who stood nearby, his expression a mask of concern.
Whitney’s heart raced as she noticed Klein’s imposing figure beside her, his serious demeanor a stark contrast to her fragile state.
“You can’t stand?” he asked, his voice tight, each word laced with suppressed emotion.
Whitney nodded faintly. “Yes, just a little.”
Before she could fully comprehend what was happening, a warm, strong hand slipped beneath her knees, lifting her effortlessly.
Klein gestured toward Lena. “Go press the elevator button.”
Lena’s mind momentarily froze, the command snapping her back to reality. “Oh, okay, Uncle Klein.”
Whitney stared at her friend, startled by the sudden shift in dynamics.
Klein’s eyes held an unreadable depth, and the faint scent of sandalwood clung to him, a calming presence amidst the chaos swirling in Whitney’s heart.
“Wait,” she murmured, attempting to squirm down.
“Don’t move,” Klein said softly, his gaze steady as he looked down at her, his knuckles brushing through her hair with a tenderness that was unexpected. “It’s not just weak legs. I’m carrying you to the car.”
Relief washed over Whitney as they entered the elevator, grateful that it was empty, just the three of them in the confined space.
As they descended smoothly to the parking garage, Lena observed Klein’s careful handling of Whitney, a strange sense of unease settling in her chest.
He cradled Whitney’s head gently as he placed her in the back seat, his voice firm yet caring as he instructed, “Lena, you sit in the back too. Take care of your friend.”
Lena couldn’t help the thought that flitted through her mind. ‘Seriously, whose friend is she supposed to be?’
“Yes, okay,” she replied quietly, a hint of confusion lingering in her voice.
Whitney, finally regaining some composure, felt as if she were perched on a bed of nails, especially where Klein had just held her; a lingering warmth radiated from her waist.
“Whit, what exactly happened just now? Where’s Carter? If something happened to you, why didn’t he come to help?” Lena’s questions tumbled out, her concern palpable.
Whitney’s eyes darkened, a bitter smile curling in the corners of her heart. He was so wrapped up in Emily that he hadn’t even noticed her distress. Besides, they had already broken up, hadn’t they?
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.