Chapter 125 Zachary, What Are You Hiding
Whoever sent it knew her name, but the unknown number kept their identity hidden.
Quinley stared at the message forever, and somehow—inexplicably—her mind went to that person.
Susan.
She immediately called the number back. It rang and rang. No answer.
Quinley's pulse hammered harder with each passing second. Call it intuition, but she just knew—the woman would pick up eventually.
On the third try, someone answered.
"Hello? Susan, is that you?"
Quinley gripped the phone tight, rushing to the window. Every nerve in her body pulled taut. Outside was pitch black, nothing but darkness stretching endlessly. But Quinley stared at one spot anyway, as if she could somehow see through the shadows and find the woman hiding there.
Silence on the other end. Not a single sound.
"I know it's you. Let's meet."
For months now, that woman had been lurking in the shadows, yet somehow she'd seeped into every corner of Quinley's life. What did she want? What exactly was the connection between them? Quinley's mind spun with endless questions. She desperately needed to meet Susan face to face.
But nothing. The woman never said a word, and then the call disconnected.
When Quinley tried again, the phone was already off. Hope rose and shattered in the same breath. There was no calming down after that.
Under cover of darkness, she headed to Maple Estate.
"I need to see Mr. Jennings."
She pressed the bell at the gate. Martha came to let her in. Quinley stood there in slippers and pajamas, tension written all over her face.
"Follow me." Martha led her inside at a brisk pace. "He's in the study. I'll let him know you're here."
Quinley waited in the living room for about five minutes before Zachary emerged in light blue pajamas, surprise clear in his eyes as they settled on her. She looked frantic, braced for battle. He'd never seen her this rattled.
"What's wrong, Quinley?"
It was late for a visit, especially like this. Something serious must've happened.
"Mr. Jennings, where is Susan?"
Straight to the point. No games. Quinley was dead certain Zachary knew about that woman. Susan had come back to Rosewood City—there was no way he didn't know.
Something tightened in Zachary's expression. He looked like he didn't want to hear that name at all.
"I don't know," he said quietly.
"How can you not know? You have to know. Please, just tell me." Quinley's voice climbed higher, emotions spilling over.
"Have some wine." Zachary walked to the cabinet, pulled out two glasses, and poured red wine into each. She was wound impossibly tight. A drink might help.
He handed her a glass. Quinley took it and downed the whole thing in one gulp.
"I need to see her."
Her voice was pure steel. Only by seeing Susan could she get answers. Only then could she know if there was really a connection between them. In this whole massive world, Quinley didn't have a single blood relative. This woman who looked like her had awakened something desperate—a longing for family she'd buried long ago.
Zachary carried his glass to the window, swirling the wine absently and taking small sips. He'd heard what she said. He just didn't respond.
"She's dead."
After what felt like forever, those two words finally came out.
But they weren't the words Quinley wanted to hear.
"No. She's not dead—she's alive. She's here in Rosewood City. She texted me today." Quinley grabbed her phone and shoved the screen toward him. "I called back. She answered but wouldn't say anything."
She'd never been this agitated in her life.
But Zachary stayed frustratingly calm. He handed the phone back. "That person isn't her. That message wasn't from her."
He was so absolutely certain about it that anger suddenly flared hot in Quinley's chest.
"Zachary, what are you hiding? Why are you so scared of me meeting her? I just want to see her once—why won't you let me?"
The fury came out of nowhere. She didn't even understand why she was suddenly this angry, snapping at him like a cornered animal.
Martha poked her head out from the utility room, clearly startled.
Zachary exhaled slowly. "I'm not hiding anything. She really is dead. Five years ago. So what you're describing... it doesn't exist."
He was lying. That was Quinley's immediate gut reaction. Of course he wouldn't admit Susan was in Rosewood City. Of course he wouldn't let them meet.
A bitter laugh escaped her throat.
"Mr. Jennings, sorry for barging in."
She didn't want to say another word. She'd come in a rush and left just as fast.
"Will Ms. Elikin be alright?" Martha asked cautiously. The way Quinley looked wasn't normal.
"She'll be fine. Go rest."
Zachary set down his glass and returned to the study. He opened a desk drawer where a tiny photograph lay hidden. The woman in it was Susan—only twenty years old back then, eyes crinkling sweetly when she smiled, innocent and carefree.
But later...
No. He didn't want to remember. Zachary tucked the photo away and leaned back in his chair, staring at nothing for a long while.
Quinley left Maple Estate with anger burning in her chest. He clearly knew everything but refused to say a damn word.
She flagged down a taxi and climbed in, heading toward the Elikin family home. The roads were empty this late, hardly any cars around. They moved smoothly through the quiet streets.
Then out of nowhere, a motorcycle came barreling toward them.
The driver slammed the brakes. Tires screamed against pavement. Quinley was in the back without a seatbelt—the momentum threw her forward hard. Her forehead cracked into the seat back. At the last second, she covered her belly with both hands.
The impact sent stars exploding across her vision.
"You got a death wish?!" The driver rolled down his window and screamed at the bike.
But the motorcycle didn't leave. The rider just sat there, revving the engine over and over, the sound rumbling through the night.
Biker gangs raced around Rosewood City at night all the time. Quinley had seen it before, so she didn't think much of it at first.
Until the motorcycle started circling the taxi deliberately. That's when alarm bells went off.
She peered through the window. The rider was a woman in a helmet and black motorcycle suit.
Completely brazen. After several circles, she stopped right in front of them. Then she lifted her visor and flipped Quinley off with a deliberate thumbs-down.
Susan.
It was Susan.
Quinley knew instantly.
"Susan!" She practically lunged out the window, shouting at the bike.
The woman glanced at her, then slowly lowered the visor again. With a sharp twist of the throttle, the motorcycle shot forward.
Quinley couldn't let her disappear again.
"Sir, follow her! Please, you have to catch up to that motorcycle!"