The Imposter Bride (Natalia and Magnus)

Chapter 504

Especially this nursery, which she knew all too well. It was here that her daughter, not even an hour old, was cruelly snatched away by a heartless woman named Gabby!

Now, returning to this place, Natalia felt a sharp pain clutching at her heart. She took a silent breath and gently pushed open the nursery door.

After the previous incident where a baby was taken, the hospital tightened security in the nursery. There were now two nurses on duty at the same time. As soon as they saw Natalia, they hurried over to usher her out. "Sorry, this area is off-limits to visitors."

The hospital staff had changed since then; none of the doctors or nurses recognized Natalia.

Her face froze for a moment, and her thoughts were racing. If only they had been this vigilant back then, perhaps her daughter would never have been lost.

But she said nothing more and simply pointed to the babies inside. "Oh, my friend's child is in there. He asked me to check on his baby.”

"I'm sorry, but that's against hospital policy. Unless you're accompanied by the child's parents, we can't allow any contact with the babies. Thank you for your understanding," the nurse replied apologetically.

Natalia nodded. "Understood. May | just stand outside the glass and look in for a moment, without entering?"

“Of course." The nurse pointed to the large glass window that took up half the wall. "This window is here so family members can view the babies without exposing them to harmful germs. Thank you for cooperating.”

After directing Natalia, the nurse returned to the nursery, shutting the door behind her, Natalia walked up to the window. She gazed at the infants. Each one was a little cherub that seemed to have drifted down from the heavens.This content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

As she watched their tiny feet kick, and their little hands wave, a wave of sorrow washed over her once again. It was from this very room that her daughter was taken by the wicked Gabby.

Despite years of Natalia and her husband's search, Gabby's whereabouts remained a mystery.

Where in the world was her daughter now? Living a carefree childhood, or wandering alone and destitute? Feeling heavy-hearted, Natalia stole one last look at the sleeping children and then left the nursery.

In the States.

The night was eerily silent at the police station. The only sound was the gentle hum of lights casting their quiet glow onto the floor.

Moths danced silently around the lights, lulling the duty officer into drowsiness. Suddenly, the lights flickered, plunging the station into darkness.

The heavy blackness was like a prelude to hell, awakening the prisoners who began to rattle the bars and hurl abuse in the newfound anonymity.

In the chaos, nobody noticed the faint scratching noise. It was too subtle amidst the din of whistles, curses, and repulsive gasping.

The officer on duty snapped to alertness, grabbed his baton, and stumbled through the dark, banging on the cells. "Quiet down, or you'll be in solitary come morning!"

But the noise only grew louder, more defiant.

Under cover of the raucous sounds, the scratching continued unnoticed.

Cursing under his breath, the guard found the backup generator, flipped the switch, and light flooded back into the prison. With the return of light, the prisoners fell silent and sullenly retreated to their corners.

The guard, baton in hand, began his rounds, unhesitatingly swinging at any defiant gaze. In this confined space, he was the king of the condemned.

He strolled leisurely until his baton clattered to the floor in shock, and a cold sweat broke out on his back. Not far ahead, a cell door was ajar, the occupant gone, and the severed lock dangled emptily from the latch. The blackout was no accident; it was a planned escape. And now, the notorious drug lord named Grant was missing.

The guard immediately reported the escape. The officers quickly assembled, and the urgent sirens roused Jonas, who was set to return to school the next day.

Disturbed by the commotion, Jonas came downstairs.

The chief was barking orders when he noticed Jonas approach. He snapped to attention with a crisp salute. "Good evening, Major!"

"Hmm," Jonas acknowledged with a nod, eyeing the hastily gathered officers. "What's the situation?"

The chief's face was grave. He was dreading reprimand, but the escape was too serious to conceal.

Reluctantly, he briefed Jonas, "Major, due to a lapse by the on-duty officers, a major drug lord broke out with the help of his accomplices."

"What?" Jonas’ brow furrowed sternly. "This is a high-security prison! What were you all doing?!"

With another stern glance at the chief, Jonas continued, "And Oy! How coul you lenaisisoner escape? liWoré gets out, where will the military's reputation stand?!" Please read the original content at NovelDrama.Org.

The chief stood silent, head bowed. Despite Jonas’ youth, he was renowned for his formidable abilities, commanding respect throughout the station.

Jonas turned on his heel. "Deploy a K-9 unit immediately. I'll lead the hunt myself. We must recapture this audacious criminal!" "Yes, sir!" The chief saluted again. His face was washed with relief. With Jonas leading, they had a far better chance of success.

The night remained dark as Grant, in tattered clothes, was hurriedly accompanied by Joseph's men as they headed toward the shore.

Ayacht awaited them, promising freedom once they reached international waters, beyond the military's jurisdiction.

In the thick underbrush by the beach, they could almost disappear. Joseph, leading the w uogedthis mertto dayakentthert pace, "Hurry up, or those damn dogs will be on us, and then we'll really be in trouble." Please read the original content at NovelDrama.Org.

Joseph's reference to "dogs" wasn't to actual canines, but a derogatory term they used for the police. Grant's crew nodded in unison, rallying around him to lend their support as they strode forward.

Grant bore the marks of his ordeal - a patchwork of bruises that painted his body in shades of pur land btoe | HS Pathe alge. acanvas of

Cc Gens These were the souvenirs of a harsh interrogation, the result of hurling insults at his questioners, who responded with their fists. Please read the original content at NovelDrama.Org.