?Chapter 1584:

Corrine didn’t respond. She gently slipped her hand out of Jules’ grasp and stepped into the experimental chamber.

The door sealed shut behind her with a muted thud. Jules stood frozen, an ache blooming in his chest—sharp and suffocating. The silence stretched before he finally broke it, his voice strained andced with tension. “Eaton, how confident are you in this form?”

Eaton, hunched over the test bench, kept his movements measured. Without looking up, he replied calmly, “About fifty percent.”

Jules’ face darkened instantly.

Fifty percent. A coin toss between survival and catastrophe.

Inside the chamber, Corrine tried to steady her thoughts, but Eaton’s earlier words echoed relentlessly.

She had always been reserved, slow to open up to people. Casual acquaintances remained just that—names and faces without weight. Some mistook her politeness for friendship, but to her, they were simply part of the periphery.

Only Jonathan had ever been different.

By all logic, she should’ve distanced herself from him the moment she learned of his animosity toward Nate. At the very least, she should have drawn a line, stayed cautious, maintained boundaries.

But she hadn’t. She knew Jonathan treated her with a softness that went beyond what was reasonable. With every encounter, something inside her shifted.

It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t thefort of family. But it was something—inexplicable and deeply rooted.

And when Eaton exined the long-term dangers of the drug, her first reaction hadn’t been fear for herself. It had been worry for Jonathan.

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Outside the chamber, Jules kept his eyes locked on the small window, barely blinking. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned pale, nails digging into his palms. The silence felt unbearable, stretching longer with each tick of the clock. His chest grew tighter. Breathing became a task.fnc1d9 ??? ????? ???????s ??? ?????s??? ?? find·novel/fnc1d9

Then, atst, the chamber door creaked open.

Through a haze of white mist, Corrine stepped out slowly, her strength clearly drained.

Jules rushed to her side without hesitation, draping a coat over her shoulders and easing her down into a nearby chair. His hands hovered anxiously, his gaze searching her face for any sign of distress. “How do you feel? Are you dizzy?”

“I’m okay,” Corrine murmured. It was the kind of fatigue that settled deep into her bones, the kind that made her eyelids feel unbearably heavy.

Leaning her head against Jules’ shoulder, she whispered softly, “Jules, I just want to go home… and sleep for a while.”

Corrine’s words struck him like a punch. His eyes widened, a sh of rm crossing his face.

They had always been close—teasing each other, picking fights, exchanging jabs like siblings who knew every inch of each other’s armor.

Corrine had always been resilient. He’d seen her navigate chaos with a steady hand and never once stepped in unless she asked.

.

.

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