Chapter 163
Margaret’s eyes gleamed with a triumphant smirk.
In an instant, I grasped her intent. Without panic, I slowly withdrew my hand, and under Bryant’s astonished gaze, I calmly stated, “It is what it looks like.”
After all, he had never taken my explanations to heart, especially when he had witnessed it himself. Any explanation from me would be futile. I used to worry about being perceived as cold–hearted, but I couldn’t care less. There was nothing more devastating than a heart turned cold. His opinion of me didn’t matter anymore.
Clutching her wound, tears streaming down her face, Margaret whimpered, “Bry, help me… It hurts so much. Jane went crazy and stabbed me…
Margaret was still acting.
I sneered, “Why the tears? Isn’t this what you wanted? You should be happy.”
She had provoked me, calculating Bryant’s arrival to force my hand. Experience indeed came with age.
Margaret looked momentarily guilty and cried more pitifully, “What are you talking about? I just wanted to beg you not to let Bry send me abroad. If you disagree, that’s fine, but why did you do this…
I looked at Bryant sarcastically. “Do you believe her?”
Perhaps I was too accustomed to disappointment, so I dared not hope for anything from him.
Bryant’s brows furrowed, his gaze fixed on me, and he softly said, “I want to hear your side.”
“It wasn’t me.” Disgusted, I cleaned the blood off my hand with some wet wipes, staring at him. “Do you believe me?”
He seemed to relax a bit, but before he could respond, Margaret, in agony, threw herself into his arms, her voice weak, “Bry, it hurts so much…”
Bryant glanced toward the door and commanded stemly, “Kevin, take her to the hospital!”
Immediately after Bryant finished speaking, Kevin stepped in to help Margaret, “Ms. Ferguson, I’ll take you to the hospital.”
“Ensure her wound is covered.” I said coldly, throwing a pack of tissues their way, “Don’t drip blood on my floor. It’s filthy.”
Margaret’s blood was even filthier.
Kevin hesitated for a moment. Bryant’s voice turned icy, “Didn’t you hear?”
“Yes!” Kevin complied.
Margaret looked bewilderedly at Bryant, her tears flowing. “Do you think… I might end up like Mom, saving you but never waking up again. I’m so scared, Bry. Please come with me to the hospital! Please!”
Margaret and Albert often used this strategy: making Bryant feel guilty.
So, at that moment, I was sure she wasn’t bringing it up by chance, but rather, it was a calculated move to morally blackmail. But Bryant fell for it every time.
Unexpectedly, he grabbed my hand, dragging me toward the door.
I struggled, asking, “What are you doing?”
“Come with me,” he said without looking back.
“Why should I?” I yanked my hand away, furious. I’m not going, Bryant. Even if Margaret dies today, she deserves it!”
How could it be possible that after she caused the death of my child and tried to frame me, I should accompany her to the hospital?