In the living room of the Foster residence.
Franklin sat on the couch with his legs crossed, gripping his phone so tightly his knuckles turned white as he stared intensely at the screen.
His expression was fraught with anxiety, and his breathing was slightly ragged.
On the screen was an update from the Serene Sanctuary account.
She clarified that she wasn't Lyra and demanded that her transcribed manuscripts be returned to their original place within a set timeframe.
Franklin, of course, knew that Serene Sanctuary couldn't possibly be Lyra.
He just hadn't expected Lyra to be so brazen—stealing Seraphina's man and now openly trying to steal her account.
Serene Sanctuary hadn't been online for days.
He had checked with the State Medical Center and learned that Seraphina had taken an extended leave of absence.
He had been terribly worried that something had happened to her, so seeing the account post a new update finally brought him a sliver of relief.
Franklin’s fingers swiped rapidly across the screen as he opened the comment section. He typed furiously, sending one comment after another, his anxiety practically bleeding through the digital text.
[F-Seraph: Are you okay right now? If you see this, please reply. Whatever you're going through, you can tell me. Don't carry it all on your own.]
Without pausing, he immediately typed a second message.
[F-Seraph: When will you go live again? I've been waiting for you. Even if it's just one word, just let me know you're safe.]
In his third comment, he urged:
[Cash out the gifts I sent you as soon as possible. If it's not enough, just let me know.]
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