It All Started With A Creepy Mail ⚊ Yang Jungwon [#4]

✗ thirty three ✗

⚊ chapter thirty three

After what felt like an eternity of silence between us, I finally mustered the courage to confess. My heart was pounding, but I was ready—I had to be.

I took a deep breath and turned to Jillian, the words forming in my mind as I prepared to tell her everything.

“Jillian,” I started, my voice steady but my insides churning. “I need to tell you something. I—”

But before I could get the next words out, her phone rang, cutting through the moment like a knife. My hand instinctively went to my face, slapping it in pure annoyance. Seriously? Another interruption?

Couldn’t I catch a break?

Jillian’s expression shifted from curiosity to panic as she answered the call. I watched as her eyes widened, her face going pale.

Whatever was being said on the other end of that line wasn’t good.

“Jungwon,” she said, her voice trembling as she tried to keep her composure. “We have to go. Now. To the pet store—it's called Paws & Whiskers.”

Seeing the fear in her eyes, I didn’t hesitate. I started the car, driving faster than I normally would, the sense of urgency pushing me to ignore all the usual caution. I kept glancing at her, seeing how she was barely holding it together, and it only made me push harder on the gas.

We arrived at the pet store, which also doubled as a vet clinic. Jillian’s parents were already there, waiting anxiously at the entrance. I parked the car quickly and followed her as she rushed over to them.

“Mama, Papa—what happened?” Jillian asked, her voice shaking as she tried to stay calm.

Her mother looked distraught, and her father’s face was tight with anger and concern.

“We found Ming’s kittens about an hour ago,” her mama explained, “but one of them was missing. We searched everywhere, and then Ming showed up with the missing kitten in her mouth, bleeding and injured. She kept meowing at me, like she was begging us to do something, to save her baby.”

Jillian’s father added, “We don’t know who did it, but we’re furious. The kitten’s in bad shape, Jillian. The vet’s working on him now, but...”

As they described the kitten’s condition—how he was barely breathing, with blood in his mouth—I saw the tears well up in Jillian’s eyes. Her face crumpled, and she started to blame herself, over and over again, for not being there, for leaving the party instead of staying home to watch over Ming and her kittens.

“This is my fault,” she whispered, her voice cracking as she started to spiral. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve—”

I couldn’t stand seeing her like this, watching as she began to hyperventilate from the overwhelming guilt.

Her parents were trying to calm her down, but she wasn’t hearing them, lost in her own self-blame.

Without thinking, I stepped forward and gently took her hands, trying to ground her.

“Jillian, it’s not your fault,” I said, my voice firm but gentle. “You couldn’t have known this would happen. Ming brought her kitten here because she knew this was the best place to get help. You’re doing everything you can now.”

To my surprise, instead of calming down, Jillian started to sob even harder. But then, she turned and threw herself into my arms, burying her face in my chest as she cried.

I held her close, feeling her body tremble as she let it all out. I rubbed her back, trying to soothe her, even though I felt completely out of my depth.