Memorial Service!

In the square not far from the river, the atmosphere was suffocatingly heavy as a solemn memorial service quietly proceeded.

Black mourning banners hung all around, and white chrysanthemums were piled high. The victims' families bowed their heads, their stifled sobs rising now and then, blending into the grief in the air.

"We are here today to mourn, with heavy hearts, all the victims of Transoceanic Flight 37. One hundred and twenty-three brave souls vanished from the skies in an instant, in an act of senseless brutality."

Holding a script, Homelander stood on the makeshift stage, deliberately slowing his speech and putting on a grief-stricken expression. Yet deep in his eyes, there was not a trace of guilt, only a hint of impatience and perfunctory concern.

Maeve, by contrast, could never shake the scene aboard the plane from her mind. Those desperate cries, those helpless eyes, and her own resolve as she turned to leave were like a sharp knife, cutting away at her conscience day and night.

She had abandoned those 123 people. She had indirectly caused their deaths.

For the past few days, she had been unable to sleep all night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the victims' faces. The relentless condemnation of her conscience tormented her, pushing her to the brink of collapse.

Meanwhile, Solomon stood a short distance behind the crowd, his hands in his pockets and a careless look on his face.

Honestly, this memorial service had absolutely nothing to do with him. He had never wanted to come, much less listen to Homelander's hypocritical drivel.

But Homelander had personally ordered him to come along and watch Maeve's every move throughout, without letting his guard down for a moment.

Solomon had no choice but to follow reluctantly.

He idly picked at his ear, his gaze wandering. Homelander's eulogy went in one ear and out the other, and he only hoped this boring performance would end soon.

Not far away, Maeve clearly had just as little interest in this nonsense as he did.

Every word Homelander spoke was like a needle stabbing viciously into her heart, making her relive the tragedy aboard the plane over and over.

Especially when Homelander picked up the list of victims and began reading those ordinary people's names one by one, Maeve could not help trembling slightly.

With every name he read, that person's face appeared clearly in her mind. Those vibrant lives had been forever frozen aboard Transoceanic Flight 37.

Especially that little girl, only eleven years old. Those clear, terrified eyes were seared into her mind, impossible to shake.

Finally, Maeve could no longer bear the torment. She abruptly turned and strode out of the square, trying to escape this suffocating place.

Onstage, Homelander paused, his gaze passing over the crowd and landing precisely on Solomon in the distance.

Solomon nodded helplessly and shrugged, left with no choice but to follow Maeve.

"Paul Shetty of New York and his eleven-year-old daughter, Lily Shetty."

Homelander's voice still carried from behind him. When Solomon heard those two names, his steps faltered instinctively.

Those names... I think I've heard them somewhere, but I can't remember right now.

Seeing Maeve about to disappear around a corner, he had no time to think it over and hurried after her.

The moment he rounded the corner, a slender, fair hand brimming with strength shoved him against the wall, the force instantly knocking the breath out of him.

"Do you want to die?"

Maeve glared fiercely at him, her voice full of suppressed fury, the pressure from her hand still increasing.

A sharp pain shot through Solomon's chest, and he seemed to hear the brittle sound of bones about to crack. She was using even more force than Homelander had when he choked him earlier!

He quickly raised his hand and slapped Maeve's wrist hard, signaling for her to let go, his face filled with pain and urgency.

If she keeps pressing, my bones are going to break.

She isn't holding back at all!

Maeve took a deep breath. The anger in her eyes faded a little, and she slowly released him.

She turned away, her voice utterly cold.

"Follow me again, and I'll kill you!"

With that, she strode toward the river.

Solomon rubbed his chest and gulped down air. The intense pain made his brows knot tightly, and he could not help cursing inwardly.

That bitch!

She can't beat Homelander, so she takes all her anger out on me!

If I weren't still too weak to beat Maeve, I'd fuck her a few hundred times to vent this hatred!

He rubbed his still-aching chest, inwardly marveling. As expected of someone who could exchange a few blows with Homelander, her strength really was formidable.

Homelander ordered me to follow Maeve. If I don't, I die. Maeve won't let me follow her. If I do, I die.

So am I supposed to follow her or not?

Fuck!

After hesitating for a moment, Solomon decided to follow her anyway.

Compared to the volatile, unapproachable Homelander, Maeve could at least be reasoned with. Even if he truly angered her, she might not actually kill him.

He jogged a couple of steps and quickly caught up with Maeve, his voice carrying a note of helplessness.

"Hey, Maeve, I don't want to follow you either, but you know Homelander told me to. I don't have a choice."

Maeve ignored him, keeping her head down as she walked briskly ahead. Only when she reached a public bench by the river did she stop and slowly sit down.

She stared blankly at the river ahead, her thoughts unreadable.

After thinking it over, Solomon walked over and sat on the seat beside her.

"You don't seem to be in a very good mood today. Is it because of Flight 37?"

Maeve remained silent, her eyes showing no change. As though she had not heard him, she continued staring fixedly at the river ahead, her thoughts unreadable.

Solomon sighed and continued trying to console her.

"That wasn't your fault. You don't need to blame yourself."

The moment he finished, Maeve, who had been silent all this time, abruptly turned her head and snapped, her gaze sharp.

"Shut up! What do you know? I could have saved them!"

Solomon looked into Maeve's eyes, where a faint glimmer of tears shone.

"Of course I know! You can't fly. Even if you'd given it everything you had, you couldn't have saved all 123 of them. Whether you got there in time or not, the final decision was never yours to make."

Maeve stiffened, her gaze suddenly sharpening as she stared at Solomon, her face filled with astonishment.

"What do you know?"

Solomon stretched and leaned back against the seat. His voice remained calm, but carried a hint of significance.

"I know a lot of things... For instance, Homelander flies very fast. It wouldn't take him long at all to fly from Vought Tower to the Atlantic Ocean, would it?"

Maeve looked Solomon up and down, her eyes full of shock, as though she were seeing him for the first time.

If one worked it out from the timing, it was indeed possible to deduce the truth.