Chapter 108

Bob was afraid of being beaten, afraid of being used as a test subject, and afraid of being thrown away like garbage after he died.

Such a young child, and he was already thinking that it would be better if death was painless and had no hope for life at all.

He had thought about living, just living, tried to adjust his mindset, and attempted to avoid one crisis after another, but in the end, he still got caught.

Who was behind all this, making these children test drugs, even psychiatric drugs? To ensure the stability of the drug's effects and better observe reactions, drugs were added without the children's knowledge.

What kind of people were these criminals? They were so shrewd and experienced that they could easily spot which children were on the verge of a mental breakdown, and they found Bob easily.

"Alan told me about this. He said I wasn't sick but had taken some weird drugs. As long as I stopped taking those drugs, I would get better. You should know that Alan and the rest of us have known each other since we were kids."

"Frank has always been in contact with you guys?"

I asked.

"That's right. Later, Frank kept in touch with us, but not Alan. We didn't include him in our plans; instead, we deliberately weakened our relationship with him, gradually reducing contact. Even if he called, I wouldn't answer. No matter how good a friend is, if you don't keep in touch for a long time, the relationship will fade. That's what I thought."

"Why?"

I understood why the few of them who were close in college hadn't kept in touch. I had thought it was because they were busy with work and had their own lives to live, but it turned out they had deliberately distanced themselves from Alan.

"Couldn't bear it."

Bob said succinctly, then paused and added.

"He was like the protagonist in a TV show, always able to turn danger into safety. His luck was so good, but it didn't make people jealous; it seemed like it was meant to be. Do you know how Alan saved me?"

I shook my head. I noticed that whenever these people mentioned Alan, they couldn't stop talking, constantly describing him. Psychologically, this was a form of compensatory description. When you hold something in high esteem or love it deeply, your subconscious mind felt that a simple description was too perfunctory, so you added a lot of extra details and embellishments.

"He secretly threw away the food I was supposed to eat every day and gave me all his food. He was just a few years old at the time, starving for several days. I couldn't stand it anymore and he secretly went out to beg for food, occasionally bringing some back for me."

"Was it Sand Village?"

I asked. At this point, the reason Alan went out to beg for food in Sand Village became clear.

"Yes." Bob nodded. "There were many children on psychiatric drugs at that time. I was the worst off. Alan told them to throw away their food and then secretly crawled out through a hole in the backyard to find food for them."

At that point, a smile appeared on Bob's face.

"Good people get good rewards. Alan met the Thompson family in Sand Village. George helped him escape. Before leaving, Alan said he would get us all out. Looking back now, how could that be possible? So many children, how could Alan get us all out? But I believed it, I still believe it now. Many children believed it, even chanting before they died that Alan would come to save them. Alan gave us hope to live. Not long after, Tom was taken out."

Bob's eyes were full of light, and he smiled.

"Tom was so happy when he left. He was sold, and before he left, he had a full meal. He said it was Alan who helped him. He had already lost an eye. We weren't jealous; on the contrary, we were probably happier than Tom himself because we were not only happy for him but also saw hope. Yes, Alan was right. He could definitely get us all out!"

At this point, I sighed. Not long after Tom left, George passed away.

The old steel mill discovered that George had started investigating them, so they took action decisively. They had a little girl lure George to the old steel mill that night, and a fire destroyed all the evidence and memories.

"In reality, we were too naive. The evil in this world doesn't exist without reason. Its existence is predicated on the absence of justice. We never thought about why the old steel mill was never discovered by others, why no one came to save us."

Bob said dejectedly, his eyes glancing at Zoey sitting next to me. This small action might have gone unnoticed by Zoey, but I caught it keenly.

When he recovered, from the first moment he saw Zoey, his eyes were not right, as if with a kind of fear. At first, I thought it was because he had just switched from one personality to another and was a bit unstable, but when Bob mentioned that no one came to save them, his eyes glanced at Zoey again.

He was afraid, and apprehensive, maybe because Zoey reminded him of something familiar. I suddenly remembered that Zoey said she looked like her mother, but her mother's eyes weren't as beautiful, so her eyes took after her father. I recalled Ronald, who was disguised as a street vendor near the Entertainment Club. Although he looked very tired in recent years, with very rough skin, those eyes were indeed very spirited.

But why was Bob so afraid of Ronald?

When I thought of Ronald at this moment, an inexplicable fear and dread arose from the bottom of my heart, and I couldn't help but shiver.

Bob also noticed my reaction, his face changed, and he stared at me, saying seriously,

"Have you met him?"

"Who?"

My face was very uneasy, and I asked back, glancing at Zoey beside me. I knew what Bob wanted to ask, but Zoey was right next to me. She wasn't very clear about this matter yet, especially Ronald's role in the whole case and his relationship with these children. But to what extent she knew, I wasn't sure.

So I quickly hinted to Bob to stop talking.

"Who is he?"

Zoey, who had been listening to Bob's story, stopped and turned to ask me, stunned.

"Is it Frank?"

"Yes." I glossed over it, finding an excuse, "Zoey, it's already evening, and I just remembered we haven't eaten yet. How about we go get something to eat and bring some back for Bob and Shirley?"

"Mrs. Smith, I can go down."

Zoey said, standing up and preparing to leave. After a few steps, she seemed to remember something, glanced at Bob, and then whispered in my ear a bit awkwardly.

"Mrs. Smith... can you transfer me some money? My mom froze my card."