Chapter 6
I lunged forward, but Kirsten just laughed–low and smug.
“This is what you get for going against me, Chantelle,” she sneered, then spun on her heel
and walked off like she didn’t do a crime.
I didn’t even have the strength to stop her. My mind was blank, my only thought was getting the doctor.
He came quickly, examined my mother, then looked up with a frown that told me everything.
“She’s in a critical condition. Go pay the fees now–if we act fast, there’s still a fifty–fifty
chance.”
I swallowed hard, that awful metallic taste rising in my throat, and sprinted to the payment
counter.
But after a few keystrokes, the nurse gave me a strange look.
“Ma’am, there’s no money in this account.”
I froze. ‘No money? That’s impossible! All my wages are in that card, and Lachlan just transferred funds into it just last week, didn’t he?‘
Then it hit me–the card was under his name.
1 grabbed my phone and dialed Lachlan. Once. Twice. Three times. No answer… just like the day I got into an accident.
I was about to start calling around for help–anyone, someone–when the doctor walked over, his face already telling me the answer.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Your mother didn’t make it.”
My legs gave out. The world tilted, then collapsed around me.
I dropped to the cold hospital floor and found myself sobbing like a child.
I barely remembered the funeral. Everything felt like a blur; I left her ashes at the columbarium, then dragged myself back to the estate.
The suitcase I’d packed earlier was still by the door of the guest room. I was ready to
leave.
But just as I reached for it, the door opened.
Lachlan stepped in, flanked by Kirsten and a parade of shopping bags and smiling friends.
He stopped when he saw me, frowning like I’d offended his sense of peace.
“What happened to you? You look awful.”
I probably did my cheek was still swollen, my arms covered in bruises.
Meanwhile, Kirsten looked like she’d just stepped off a runway. We looked like we came from two different worlds.
Chanter 6
2/2 12.0%
MON, 23
Her handbag alone would have paid for my mother’s treatment ten times over.
I couldn’t take my eyes off it; the unfairness of it all was like a punch to the gut.
Lachlan noticed and let out a sigh. “I only bought it to make it up to you,” he said, like that
made it better.
Then, like it was nothing, he added, “Oh right. Your image is a bit… messy right now. Kirsten’s going to take over your position for a while. You can submit your resignation in the next couple of days.”
I gave a soft, bitter laugh. ‘Great. Perfect timing.‘
Without arguing, I handed him the resignation and divorce papers I’d already prepared.
He didn’t even read them–just signed.
“At least you’re being reasonable,” he said. “Once things settle down, you can come back.”
He glanced at my face then, as if realizing something might be off.
“You’re not like Kirsten,” he said, quieter now. “I have to think about her reputation. And the baby’s.”
‘Right,‘ I thought. ‘Because I don’t matter. I’m just… collateral.’
I gave him a faint smile. What was there to say?
Kirsten clung to his arm, grinning like she’d just won a prize. “Locke, let’s go to that music restaurant again. The kids loved it.”
Lachlan looked at me, as if trying to soften the blow. “I’m doing all this for you too, you know. Next time, I’ll take you.”
‘Next time,’ I repeated in my head. ‘Just like all the other times you promised something and never came through.’
And just like that, he turned his back and walked out the door–hand in hand with the woman who had taken everything from me.
I stood there in silence for a long time. Then I clutched the signed papers, turned, and headed straight for the airport.
While I was checking in, Kirsten’s texts came flooding in. Photo after photo. Her and Lachlan. The kids. Their perfect little outing.
I didn’t even flinch; I just blocked her, tossed the phone in the trash, and boarded the plane.
‘There will be no next time.’
‘Not for me.‘
‘And never again for Lachlan/
