The Bomb Expert Who Let Love Cut the Wrong Wire

Summer's camera turned on me again. She painted me as a vicious and incompetent woman who had lost her mind from grief and personally snuffed out her son's last chance at life.

I looked at her without anger, only finding the whole thing absurd. I had told them so many times that the child was her son Wyatt, yet they refused to believe me.

I shook my head and calmly turned to leave this hellhole. However, at the hospital entrance, I was surrounded by a mob of furious patients and family members. They had all watched Summer's livestream, and she'd whipped them into a frenzy.

They pointed at me and hurled insults. Someone threw something at me first. Then, a hysterical woman rushed forward and grabbed my hair.

"That was a young life! How could you be so heartless!"

Fists came at me from every direction. I lost count of how many punches and kicks I took. When I felt my organs shifting out of place and blood gushing from my mouth, the crowd finally dispersed.

Nolan walked over with a grief-stricken expression and addressed the crowd. "My wife, Brielle, acted this way because she suffered tremendous shock. I beg everyone to forgive her.

"Right now, I'm taking her to a psychiatric hospital for treatment so she can never hurt anyone again."

He shot Summer a look, and she pinned me down. Summer leaned close to my ear and whispered triumphantly, "Brielle, did you think Nolan would divorce you? Let me tell you the truth. The only way out of this marriage for Nolan is widowhood.

"Now that your son is dead, once we send you to the psych ward, your company and your assets will all belong to Nolan. When we find a way to finish you off completely, Nolan and I can openly enjoy everything you own.

"And your son's share? That will go to my son Wyatt."

She started laughing. I almost pitied her.

"Have you ever considered that the dead child really is your son?" I asked her.

My composure threw Summer off. She spat out, "Bullshit! I told the kidnappers to grab the kid in the blue designer tracksuit!

"Your son was the only one in the entire preschool wearing that outfit. There's no way it could be wrong!"

A chill ran through my entire body. So this wasn't a random kidnapping. This was premeditated murder.

I pulled out my phone to call the police, but Nolan, who had just finished his own call, snatched it from my hand and smashed it on the ground.

"Brielle, give up struggling. Everyone thinks you've lost your mind from grief. No one will believe anything you say anymore."

In the distance, the psychiatric hospital van approached, its lights flashing and sirens blaring. I struggled desperately, but they held me down.

Just then, Nolan's phone rang. It was a video call from Mom.

Nolan gestured for Summer to cover my mouth and drag me aside. Then he answered the call impatiently.

Mom's anxious voice came through the speaker. "Nolan, when are you and Brielle coming home? Finn is crying for his mother.

"What's going on with Brielle? Why isn't she answering her phone?"

As my mother spoke, Nolan's expression gradually twisted into something strange. Just then, Finn's clear voice rang out from the phone.

"Dad! Where's Mom? When are you guys coming home?"

Summer, who had been gripping me tightly, suddenly went rigid. Her expression turned horrified. She released me shakily and stumbled over to Nolan's phone.

On the screen, Finn was bouncing around and waving at the camera. When he saw Summer, though clearly frightened, he still greeted her politely.

"Hello, Ms. Castellano."

Summer went completely still before letting out an inhuman shriek. Like a madwoman, she charged toward the small, cold corpse inside the hospital.