I Disappear Story Chapter 72
Posted on March 05, 2025 · 0 mins read
Listen to this chapter:

Chapter 72

I was still reeling, unable to process everything, until Dylan's anxious voice pierced the fog. "Yvonne, are you okay? Don't scare me," he said, his voice filled with concern.

I looked at him, my eyes slightly red-rimmed. It was Dylan who had been hit, Dylan who was hurt, yet all he could think about was me. He reminded me of my former self—always focused entirely on Hayden, never minding hunger or cold.

My silence only heightened Dylan's anxiety. "Yvonne, I'll take you to the hospital."

"No need…" I snapped out of my thoughts, quickly checking his wounds. "How are you?"

Dylan froze, clearly surprised by my concern. "I'm fine. It just hurts a little," he smiled, shy but sincere. Over the past year, I'd become so accustomed to the world's harshness and human coldness that I'd almost forgotten people like Dylan existed.

"Fine! You were hit with a bat!" I gritted my teeth, glaring at his attackers. My voice was cold but firm. "In broad daylight? You think you can just beat someone up? You've got a death wish! Get ready to hear from my lawyer."

"What lawyer?" one thug retorted, brandishing the bat. "Scared of that?"

I glared harder, my voice low and menacing. "Intentional assault gets you at least three years. Want to see how long you can sit behind bars?"

The thug's expression shifted; panic set in as he realized I knew the exact sentence. "What assault? It was an accident! What's it to you? Still hanging around? Want another taste of the bat?"

"Yvonne, let it go. Let's go," Dylan whispered, his voice gentle but insistent. He was a student, and I realized he wanted no further trouble. So I led us away; arguing with so many wouldn't help.

After dropping Martin off, I finally took Dylan to the hospital. "Yvonne, I'm really fine. Don't worry," he kept reassuring me.

"How can you be fine after being hit with that heavy bat? Just wait for the checkup," I replied firmly. I wouldn't rest until I saw his medical report.

In the end, Dylan obediently went for the checkup. While waiting, my phone rang—Marlon. "Did you get beaten up and end up in the hospital?" he asked, his concern evident.

I was stunned. "How did you know?"

This just happened. How could he possibly know? Does he have eyes in the mall? I thought.

"Are you really hurt? Send me your address. I'll come over now," Marlon said, his voice tense and resolute.

I explained, "It's not me. Someone else got hurt. I'm bringing him to the hospital."

"Are you sure?" Marlon asked, sounding doubtful.

"I'm sure. I have no reason to lie," I reassured him.

After a long pause, I heard a sigh of relief. "Glad to hear you're fine. I'll come by later," Marlon said.

I was about to ask why when Dylan emerged from the exam room. I quickly ended the call. "How's it going?" I asked, approaching him with concern. If anything was wrong with him, I'd feel terrible.

"I'm fine. It doesn't hurt much anymore," Dylan said, smiling. I knew he was reassuring me, but I wasn't convinced. My back had been bruised for days after Nevin pushed me into a table. Dylan couldn't possibly be fine.

"What did the doctor say?" I asked.

Dylan started to answer, but a nurse called for family members. I rushed in, and the doctor sighed. "Fortunately, the injury is just 0.3 inches from the spine. Any closer, he could have been paralyzed."

My heart sank. I hadn't realized the severity. I looked at Dylan in the doorway, and tears welled up.

Seeing this, Dylan waved his hand. "I'm really fine. It's not as bad as the doctor said. Don't cry."

The doctor shook his head. "Take your medication on time and rest. Don't bend over or lift heavy objects for a few days."

Leaving the hospital, I supported Dylan, ensuring he didn't walk too fast. "Do you want to rest?" I asked, sounding almost fussy.

Dylan smiled. "Yvonne, I'm really fine. How about I run to prove it?"

"Don't you dare! The doctor said to rest!" I stopped him, glancing at the busy street. "Where do you live? I'll take you home."

Dylan pouted. "It's not proper for a girl to take a guy home, is it?" He stubbornly refused. "Yvonne, I'm hungry. How about we eat first?"

He'd taken a blow for me; I should treat him. I'd been so focused on getting him home that I'd forgotten food.

"Alright, let's eat," I agreed.

To avoid straining him, I chose a restaurant with dishes promoting blood circulation and reducing swelling.

Seeing the food, Dylan laughed. "Yvonne, why don't you order a few dishes you like? This is all medicinal cuisine."

"It's fine. Just eat more. I'm not that hungry," I replied.

Dylan's smile faded; he frowned. "How can you not be hungry? Did those guys scare you?"

"No," I shook my head, giving a wry smile. "Just the usual. Don't worry. Eat up." I served him soup.

Noticing his furrowed brow, I changed the subject. "By the way, if those people were so aggressive, why does Mr. Zamora still keep the store? Did he try getting a lawyer?"

Dylan sighed. "Uncle Martin is soft-spoken, and he really likes that store. He and his wife ran a small business there, raising my cousin. I only found out about this from my parents. I came to see if I could help. The rest… I don't really know. The worst part is that insane company… How could they be so stupid as to rent to two people?"

"Mr. Robinson isn't someone you want to mess with. If he's got his eyes on something, be careful," I warned.

"Yeah, I'll warn Uncle Martin," Dylan nodded. After sipping his soup, he looked at me, puzzled. "Yvonne, how did you end up at that store?"

I froze, my hand gripping my fork so tightly my knuckles whitened. He still didn't know the company was the Parker Group. I hesitated, unsure whether to tell him.


Please let us know if you find any errors, so we can fix them.