Chapter 394 Borrowed Name, Stolen Life

Yunice knew that look on Owen’s face all too well.

He always wore that same fake, sorrowful expression whenever he’d made up his mind to sacrifice her—like he was being forced into a painful, noble decision.

Her eyes shifted to Elsie behind him. The sudden chill that crept up her spine sharpened her voice with warning. “Owen, don’t tell me you’re trying to steal my protective gear. They asked for me. You think you can pull a fast one?”

Owen replied, “Yunice, I didn’t want it to come to this. But you went over my head and reported the outbreak. If you hadn’t done that, we all could’ve gotten out of here. You forced my hand...”

And there it was. Once again, he was trying to paint her as the one at fault.

Yunice sneered. “Owen, after all these years, you really think I don’t know who you are? If you’re going to stab me, just do it. Why waste time justifying it? Or do you think spinning excuses makes it easier for you to go through with it?”

Owen’s voice softened. “Yunice… Elsie took a knife for me. She just had surgery—she’s in no shape to handle this.”

“And what, I’m supposed to be the sacrificial lamb?” she shot back. “I just got out of the hospital too.”

Owen went silent. Then finally said in a low voice, “I’m sorry.”

There it was again.

That same, useless phrase.

What was his “sorry” worth? A magic cure? A life-saving drug?

Did “sorry” buy her a second chance at life?

Yunice turned toward the door, ready to yell for the doctors outside and expose Owen’s scheme.

But before she could get a word out, Owen shoved a drug-soaked towel over her mouth and nose.

Her limbs buckled almost immediately.

Eyes blazing with fury, she glared at him and rasped, “Even if you get her out… Wyatt will know. Elsie won’t get far.”

Owen’s face darkened. “I’m sorry. I don’t have the luxury to care.”

Dead is dead—at least if Elsie got out, she had a shot.

Seeing Elsie still standing there, frozen, Owen lifted Yunice into his arms and hissed, “Hurry up! Put on her gear! The suit’s completely sealed—they won’t see your face. Just keep quiet, and no one will know the difference.”

Yunice shot Elsie a furious glare as the girl pulled the protective suit off her limp body and slipped into it. Layer upon layer—goggles, mask, full hood. It was impossible to see who was underneath.

Owen wasn’t wrong. Without a name written on the back, there was no way to tell.

Once dressed, Elsie looked back at Owen. Her voice was low and heavy. “Owen… I’m leaving now…”

His eyes reddened. After a few seconds, he managed a hoarse “Mm.” Elsie’s throat tightened.

Truthfully, when Owen handed her Yunice’s gear, she had been stunned.

She hadn’t expected him to care this much—to give her his one hope of survival.

Too bad… someone this good would probably never make it out of the hospital.

Tears rolled down Elsie’s cheeks as she ran out of the office.

The doctors next door saw she was ready and immediately sent someone to escort her out.

Then another person came to verify the remaining occupants. Noticing one person missing, they asked, “Where’s the third one?”

Owen said, “She’s in the lounge—just feeling emotional.”

The doctor poked his head in and saw the back of a woman slumped over the table.

He didn’t look closely. The headcount matched, so he locked the office door.

No one realized the switch had already happened.

Owen slumped into a chair, heart racing. He looked at Yunice, who lay there groggy but conscious.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he said solemnly. “I’m staying here with you. Even if we die, I’ll go before you do.”

Still clinging to his delusions of nobility.

Yunice’s voice was like ice. “If you want to die, do it yourself. Don’t drag me down with you.”

The sedative still had her limbs weak and useless.

Meanwhile, Elsie, hidden beneath layers of protective gear, rode out with the supply vehicle and passed straight through Saunders Hospital’s final checkpoint.

When the gates of the Saunders compound came into view, she felt like she’d been reborn.

Tears streamed down her face. She had gambled—and won.

So what if Yunice married well?

“In the end, I’m the lucky one. No matter how good your fortune is, you still have to hand it over to me.”

She turned back briefly, gazing toward the hospital’s offices.

“I’ll live well for the both of you,” she said under her breath. “Yunice… you can keep Owen company in death. He was good to me. I don’t want him to be alone.”

With that, Elsie’s eyes glinted with a mix of grief and cold resolve—then she never looked back.