Chapter 1437:
“Wasn’t Mr. Elliott with you?” the caregiver replied, puzzled.
Charles tried calling Myron’s phone, but there was no answer. He checked Ari’s room—still nothing.
“Where could he have gone?” Charles muttered, panic rising. “It’s only been a few days, and he’s still not healed!”
He immediately phoned Jayceon and Adriana, but neither had any news about Myron’s whereabouts.
Far to the east of Crobert stood the tallest mountain in the area, famous for its breathtaking sunrise view. Atop its slopes sat a small church, popular with early-morning visitors.
But today, the scene was different.
As climbers made their way halfway up, they noticed a lone man in a hospital gown moving steadily ahead. Two of them exchanged wary glances, then gestured to the others to keep their distance.
“Is something wrong?” one whispered.
“He’s… praying, in the most sincere way,” the other replied. “Not sure what for.”
The first climber squinted at the man’s indistinct face, partially hidden by shadows. They watched him ascend another step, then drop to his knees. His gown was tattered, his knees scraped and bleeding, yet he didn’t falter.
The climbers glanced at the long staircase stretching before him, seemingly endless even from halfway up.
“Did he climb all the way from the base like this?” one murmured in disbelief.
The other nodded, holding up their phone. “It’s all over social media. Everyone on the mountain is talking about him.”
“My goodness… that’s over a thousand steps from the bottom to the top!”
“Exactly. I wondered what motivated him.”
Confusion rippled through the small crowd. Dawn hadn’t come, shrouding the path in shadows. Onlookers kept their distance, hesitant to intrude or take photos.
ga𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀.k𝗈n – 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝓬𝗼𝗽𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒
Raindrops began to fall.
A few disgruntled climbers muttered complaints about the unreliable weather and hurried back for shelter. But the man in the patient gown pressed on, undeterred, each step soaking him through.
His joints throbbed, his legs ached. The rain pelted him like icy needles, but Myron forged ahead.
God would hear him.
He prayed for Millie’s recovery. “God… if you can hear me, please… save my wife, Millie. I would give anything, everything, for her.”
The rain thickened, blurring his vision, yet Myron continued upward, step by step.
With each movement, memories of Millie played vividly in his mind. The dates they shared. Helping Ari practice piano. Planning countless little adventures together, sharing the quiet satisfaction of their successes. Surprising her with gifts and watching her eyes widen in delight. Bringing home her favorite treats, teasing her as her mouth was full and cheeks puffed out, her dainty bites always making him smile.
He had loved watching her eat—so hearty yet so graceful.
.
.
.