A Second Chance at Forever (Eleanor and Bernard) novel Chapter 1378

The name Eleanor sent an electric jolt through Bernard's long-stagnant heart, igniting a spark in his dim eyes.

"Eleanor’s news?"

She and the child she carried had sunk to the depths of the sea. What news could there possibly be?

Yates remained silent, his stare fixed on Bernard with an intensity that spoke volumes.

The anxious man, seeing no response, felt his temper darken, "Speak up!"

After a drawn silence, Yates stepped back, sinking into a sofa with the weight of unsaid words.

"You think Eleanor's dead, don't you?"

Bernard's eyes flickered with a storm of emotions before settling into a shade of skepticism.

"If you're here to play me with some fake information of her survival, just get out."

Sophie and Cameron would never let Eleanor off the hook. Who would save her? Who could?

He didn’t believe it, and Yates, unhurried, gestured to Peterson with a flick of his cigarette-bearing fingers, “Show him the video.”

With understanding, Peterson pulled out his phone, opening a video sent from a photographer at the family reunion. He placed it before Bernard's eyes.

In the footage, Eleanor stood beneath a pear tree, clad in a champagne gown, her gaze lost in the crowd. The breeze teased her hem into a delicate dance.

“This was taken tonight. Timestamped for proof.”

Bernard was deaf to Yates' words, his misty eyes locked onto the woman in the video.

Her face, her features, her expression – unchanged. It couldn't be a fake. So... she wasn't dead?

A red hue crept into Bernard’s eyes that struggled against tears. With each throb of his heart came a pang of pain, even his palms ached. His trembling fingers reached out, yearning to touch that face on the screen, but he lacked the strength, his hand falling helplessly each time.

All he could do was tear his gaze from the video to look at Peterson, his eyes brimming with a plea for truth.

Peterson, behind his mask, met those reddened eyes, feeling a twinge of guilt but ignoring the questioning look. He took away the phone and walked emotionlessly back to Yates' side.

Bernard lowered his gaze, tears quickly splashing onto his hand. As his emotions quietly released, the tension binding Bernard unraveled.

He relaxed against the wall, his once rigid posture softening.

"The news of Eleanor's survival is yours. Now, let's discuss my terms." Yates' aged voice fell upon Bernard's ear, prompting him to reel in his emotions.

"What are your terms?" As he looked up again, his eyes were sharp, frosty.

Observing the icy Bernard, Yates raised an eyebrow slightly, "Do you want to see her?"

The question seemed to suggest Eleanor was in the clutches of their organization. Bernard's heart, just settled, lurched again, but he forced composure, staring at the immovable Yates, "What do you think?"

Bernard's icy glare mocked Yates' redundant question. Yates asked knowingly, paving the way for what was to come.

"Tomorrow, I'll have you released, reinstating your identity as Agent 2-9. Then, I'll arrange for you and Eleanor to meet."

The deepening of Bernard's confusion was palpable, "Why restore my identity?" What was this man behind the full-face mask really up to?