The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 482

Whispers immediately broke out across the crowd.

A middle-aged woman covered her mouth, whispering to her coworker, "I read that article five years ago... I even cried."

A young man in glasses frowned at the comparison photos, muttering, "This is insane." Others pulled out their phones to take pictures, whispering, "Isn't faking your death for a medal illegal?"

Sloane stood frozen as the voices crashed over her like a tidal wave.

"Fraud," "Fake death," "Illegal"—every word was like a needle piercing her eardrums, stabbing her skin, shredding every inch of her exposed to their judgmental stares.

A blinding white light exploded in her brain.

That old newspaper photo—standing in her polar gear on the vast, white ice—acted as a brutal key, violently twisting the lock on a repressed memory in the deepest corner of her mind.

She didn't know when that photo was taken. She didn't know anything about the "sacrifice" or the "medal" written in the reports, and she certainly didn't know why she was considered a dead hero to the entire country.

All she knew was that the fragmented memories were flooding back. The glowing blue fungus, the smiling face of Diego Solano, the slight nod from a professor in gold-rimmed glasses... and all the questioning and disgust from the crowd crashing down on her right now.

"I..."

She opened her mouth, but her throat was so dry she couldn't make a sound. Her knees buckled, and she stumbled backward, her spine slamming into the edge of a desk to keep from collapsing entirely.

She gripped the edge of the desk, her knuckles turning white, her fingernails scraping against the wood.

Just then, the office door slammed open.

Garrison and Howard strode out. Garrison's eyes instantly swept over the crowd and locked onto Sloane in the center. She was leaning against the desk, her face deathly pale, her lips trembling as she swayed dangerously.

He shoved his way through the crowd. Terrified by the sheer, commanding aura radiating from him, the employees automatically parted to let him through.

He reached Sloane, wrapping a firm hand around her shoulder. He pulled her a step behind him, using his tall frame to shield her from the hostile, scrutinizing stares of the room.

"Stand behind me."