A Second Chance At Forever novel (Eleanor and Bernard) novel Chapter 1308

Chapter 1308 

“Robin!” Eleanor clenched her fists, pounding furiously against the glass door. 

The door retracted, and her fists hit the wall instead. 

It was painful, yet numb, as she continued to hammer at the wall. 

Her small fists wore through the skin, blood seeping out, staining the wall a chilling red. But the wall still stood, unyielding, showing no signs of opening. 

Eleanor used all her strength but could not break through. Her hands slowly slid down from the door. Her despair, etched in blood, made her look like a lifeless doll. 

“Robin, I can’t break this wall, I’m sorry, I can’t save you…” 

Eleanor knelt on the floor, helpless, staring at the white wall that separated life from death. 

Her body felt drained of blood, her limbs cold. 

Robin… That lofty, moody, somewhat odd man, had met his end because of her… 

Tears welled up in Eleanor’s eyes, rolling down her cheeks. If it wasn’t for her, Robin wouldn’t have died. It was her fault, her incompetence. She hadn’t found Bernard, hadn’t found Caleb, and now Robin was gone. 

Eleanor covered her face with her hands, letting the tears flow freely. 

She should have stopped him from following her. Then he wouldn’t have died. 

Thinking of Robin covered in blood, Eleanor’s heart clenched and her frail body shivered. She leaned against the wall, hugging her knees, burying her face in her arms. The exhaustion from Robin’s death, her physical weariness and mental collapse left her faith in survival shattered. 

She felt unworthy of life, of facing anyone, especially Katharine. 

“Please, the last player, return to your room. The ninth round will start tomorrow. Please prepare in advance.” 

The mechanical voice chimed, but Eleanor didn’t hear it. She just sat against the wall in silence. 

Backstage, the surveillance feed stopped, and 2-7 smirked, turning to Mr. Nine. 

His slender, pale hands were clenched into fists, blood dripping onto his trousers and the floor. The dripping sound was soft, almost inaudible, but 2-7 could hear and see it. 

And yet, the more blood dripped, the more satisfied she seemed. As if only such punishment could appease her anger. 

“Now that the man who was helping her is dead, let’s see if she can pass the final round.” 

2-7 stood up, leaving the room with an air of arrogance. 

The others followed, leaving only Mr. Nine sitting on the sofa like a statue. 

Eleanor didn’t know how long she sat there. Eventually, a mechanical arm picked her up and returned her to her room. 

The empty Room 9, without Robin’s figure sprawling on the bed, seemed colder… 

The room was now inhabited by her alone. 

The bleak scene, combined with the stark white walls, was a perfect match in its misery. 

Numb, she walked to Robin’s bed, pulled open the drawer. 

Inside were apples, milk, bread. Not much, but it was what Robin had saved bit by bit over the past two months. He was always worried she would go hungry, so he would only eat a little and save the rest for her, yet he was always pretending to complain that he didn’t like eating much. 

Each breakfast, he would save a piece of fruit, a box of milk, a slice of bread. So there there would always be something for her when she was hungry at night.