Toxic Air, Toxic Love—His Regret Came Too Late

My nails dug deep into my palms as I finally set aside my pride and pleaded:

“Ethan Miller, what will it take for you to save me and my mom?”

Ethan’s tone carried no emotion whatsoever:

“Simple. Hand over the patent for your current research project to Chloe White, and I might consider sparing you and Mary Carter.”

A chill shot through my heart.

I glanced around the laboratory where I had poured in countless days and nights of effort. This project was the unfinished work my father, Robert Carter, had left behind. He had dedicated his life to it—and ultimately sacrificed himself for it.

If completed, it would push the United States’ military capabilities to an entirely new level.

After my father’s death, my mother cried herself blind.

Rationally or emotionally, I could never bring myself to give it away so easily.

But seeing Margaret Miller slipping deeper into unconsciousness, her face already turning blue, I realized she didn’t have much time left.

Having lost my father so young, I knew all too well the agony of losing a loved one. I couldn’t bear to see that pain happen again.

After a long, bitter struggle, I clenched my teeth and nodded.

“Fine! You can have it! I’ll sign the transfer right now!”

I scribbled a quick agreement, signed my name, and slid it through the crack in the door.

“Is this enough!?”

Ethan studied it, then gave a satisfied nod.

Relief washed over me—only to be shattered by the sound of two gas pipes exploding.

I stared at him in disbelief, hatred blazing in my eyes like fire:

“Ethan, did you forget the deal we just made? You’re breaking your word!”

More poisonous gas spread rapidly through the chamber. My lungs, already battered, couldn’t hold on. I coughed up a mouthful of blood.

The corrosive air seared my skin in burning streaks. Pain shot through my nerves, wracking me with sweat until I collapsed.

My research—the weapon I once believed would defend my country—was now becoming my tomb.

As my consciousness blurred, my father’s figure seemed to appear before me, reaching out his hand.

I shook my head violently, breaking free of the illusion and forcing clarity back.

No. I would not give in.

Holding my breath, I dragged Margaret up to higher ground, giving her a little more chance at survival.

The effort drained the last of my strength. Gasping for air, I glared fiercely at the surveillance camera.

I knew those two would be watching, treating this as nothing more than a cruel game.

Sure enough, Ethan laughed with abandon:

“Of course I broke my word. What are you going to do about it?”

Chloe chimed in, her voice deliberately sweet:

“Sorry, Rachel, but I don’t want your research anymore. After all, what if you reported me again later? I’m terrified of that.”

“And I just thought of something better. Tell me, how long can a living human last in toxic gas before dying? I’m very curious. So, you and your mom will be my test subjects!”

Chloe giggled, entirely self-satisfied:

“Don’t worry, Rachel, I’m not ungrateful. Once I publish a groundbreaking paper using you two as material, I’ll visit your graves every Memorial Day. Consider it my way of honoring your contribution, hehe.”