Chapter 162
On the other end of the line came a deep sigh from Violet, as if carrying countless layers of exhaustion and helplessness, "Alright, I understand. I won't bother you anymore, Grace."
Her voice suddenly sounded much older, yet still trying hard to maintain a gentle tone, "Just know that I definitely support you."
"So don't keep everything bottled up inside. If you're upset or feel wronged, you can always talk to me, okay?"
I knew Violet meant well toward Milly and me.
In the cold and fake environment of the Smith family, the little bit of warmth she offered was real.
When she said she definitely supported me, there might have been some sincerity in those words.
But I was equally clear that George was her own grandson, the Smith family heir she had raised herself and placed high hopes on.
She and George were always blood-related Smith family members.
When it came to critical interests and choices, the bonds of blood often carried more weight than any moral support.
Her current inconsistency between words and heart, or rather, that irreconcilable contradiction deep inside her, was normal and something I had long anticipated.
So regarding her promises and comfort, I would always just respond lightly, indicating I'd heard and understood, but I wouldn't take it to heart anymore or harbor any unrealistic expectations.
"Okay, I understand, Grandma. Please take care of yourself too." I ended the call with a calm tone.
After hanging up, I didn't immediately dive into work.
My chest felt blocked by something, heavy and suffocating.
The cheerful mood I'd had about Mom's dinner invitation tonight was completely shattered by Violet's call.
That phone call was like an invisible hand mercilessly tearing open my already scabbing old wounds. Though there was no fresh blood, that familiar stale pain clearly spread through me, making me taste once again the bitterness of those six years—being ignored, neglected, and taken for granted as a sacrifice.
I didn't even feel like going to Emily to brag about having a home-cooked meal from Mom tonight.
I sat alone in my office chair for a while, then picked up the empty water cup from my desk and got up to head to the break room.
I filled a cup with warm water but didn't drink it, just leaned against the counter, looking at the towering buildings outside and a small patch of gray sky.
The break room was very quiet, with only the occasional soft sounds from the water dispenser.
I stayed there for a long time, letting those churning emotions slowly settle and digest in the silence.
Some pain, some realizations, some decisions—you can only chew and swallow them slowly by yourself, until they become part of the strength that supports you moving forward, rather than an obstacle.
Only when my mood finally calmed down a bit, no longer so heavy, did I walk out of the break room carrying that cup of now-cold water.
I returned to my desk and checked the time—it was past the usual hour for ordering takeout. My stomach felt empty, but I had no appetite.
I picked up my phone, planning to just order something simple to get by, when the screen suddenly lit up with an urgent ringtone.
The caller ID showed Flora.
I was slightly startled.
Flora was currently hospitalized for treatment. We didn't contact each other that frequently, but our relationship was good. She wouldn't normally call me suddenly during work hours unless something important had happened.
A strange premonition flashed through my mind. I quickly answered, "Flora?"
Flora's panicked voice came through, almost sobbing, speaking so fast the words barely formed sentences, "Grace! Something terrible happened! Your mom... your mom seems to have been in a car accident on her way to see me!"
My brain went blank with a buzzing sound.
"What?" I shot up from my chair, knocking over the pen holder on my desk without even noticing.
"I just got a call from the traffic police saying the injured person was sent to the hospital next to mine, and the ID information is your mom's. I'm getting an IV right now and can't leave. I'm so worried, Grace. Quick, go to that hospital and see what's going on!" Flora's voice was trembling badly, full of fear and anxiety, "I keep calling your mom's phone but can't get through. Grace, I'm so anxious. Please go, go quickly!"
My heartbeat suddenly went haywire, as if gripped tightly by an icy hand, then plummeting to the bottom.
"Flora, don't worry, don't panic." I forced myself to speak in the calmest voice possible while quickly grabbing my bag and car keys from the desk, heading out without even saying goodbye to my colleagues.
"I'm going right now, immediately!" My voice was also trembling, but I had to stay steady, for Flora's sake and even more for my own, "Just now, my mom called me saying she'd treat Milly and me to something good tonight. She'll be fine, Flora. She definitely will be fine!"
These words were less about comforting the distraught Flora and more about desperately convincing myself, giving myself a tiny glimmer of hope.
My mom, the person who loved me most in this world, who would always stand behind me no matter what happened—she couldn't be hurt.
Absolutely not!
I practically rushed into the elevator.
I was alone in the elevator. The smooth metal walls reflected my pale, bloodless face and uncontrollably panicked eyes.
I watched the floor numbers jump down one by one, down, down...
Time seemed infinitely stretched, each second as unbearable as a century.
My heart pounded wildly in my chest, hitting against my ribs, bringing waves of dull pain.
I gripped my phone tightly, my fingers ice cold, my mind uncontrollably flashing through various terrible images.
The figure of Mom riding her small bicycle...
The piercing sound of brakes...
A chaotic scene...
The glaring lights of an ambulance...
"No, it won't be..." I murmured, biting my lower lip hard, trying to use the pain to maintain a shred of clarity.
The elevator finally reached the first floor. The moment the doors opened, I rushed out, running toward the parking lot as fast as I could.
Getting in the car, starting it, backing out—the entire series of actions was completed almost on instinct.
The car merged into the afternoon traffic. I gripped the steering wheel tightly, eyes fixed on the road ahead, with only one thought in my mind: Faster! Even faster!
Mom, you must wait for me! You must be safe and sound!
The car left the parking lot and merged into the main road traffic.
My phone was connected to the car's Bluetooth. Flora's tearful voice sounded especially clear and piercing in the enclosed space.
"Grace, you don't know how awful George and those people from the Wilson family are."
"Recently, your mom has been so busy with company matters, barely touching the ground. This morning, she finally got positive responses for several small tour route deals. People had verbally agreed to work with her."
"When she called to tell me, I was so happy too, thinking there was finally some hope..."
Flora paused, her tone taking a sharp downturn, full of indignation and heartache, "But what happened? On her way to see me, she got calls from those people again."
"They all backed out! Said they wouldn't cooperate anymore and were pulling their investments!"
"They said... said the Smith Group, and Tom's tourism company, would work with them instead, offering even better terms than what your mom offered."
"Your mom got those calls, her emotions went from high to low, she was distracted while driving, and that's why she got into an accident."
Flora was almost shouting by the end, with heavy sobbing and uncontrollable hatred.
My heart felt like it was being squeezed hard by an invisible hand, then suddenly released, leaving behind numb, dull pain and an icy void.
My heart pounded like a drum, yet I felt no warmth at all. My hands and feet were so cold they didn't feel like my own.