Chapter209 Framed During the Outing
The suburban air carried the fragrance of fresh grass.
As soon as Arthur got out of the car, he dramatically spread his arms and took a deep breath.
"This air is so fresh!"
The car door behind him opened, and Isabella and Celeste jumped out with a frisbee, excited smiles on their faces.
"Let's play frisbee!" Isabella held up the frisbee, suggesting.
Celeste's gaze swept past everyone and landed directly on Miranda, a malicious smile curving her lips.
"Miranda, play with us."
Without waiting for Miranda's answer, she immediately followed up, her tone carrying a hint of provocation. "My brother can't play with us. As his wife, you have to play, right? Unless you're refusing to give us face?"
With these words, even the young men and women who'd gotten out of the other car all looked at Miranda in unison.
The atmosphere became somewhat awkward.
Clifton maneuvered his wheelchair to Miranda's side, his cold gaze sweeping toward Celeste.
"Watch your tone."
Just four words, devoid of emotion, yet they made Celeste's smile freeze and her mouth snap shut reflexively.
Only then did Clifton turn to look at Miranda, his voice softening with protectiveness. "Play if you want to. Don't if you don't. No one can force you."
Miranda looked at Celeste and Isabella's expectant expressions, then at the curious gazes from Arthur and Clifton's circle of friends who'd gotten out of the other car.
She didn't want Clifton to start off on bad terms with his friends because of her.
She raised her eyes, meeting Celeste's gaze, her lips curving slightly, her voice calm.
"Sure."
After more than an hour of frisbee, a thin layer of sweat had formed on Miranda's fair cheeks. The breeze brought a refreshing coolness that felt wonderful.
She hadn't exercised so freely in a long time. The pent-up frustration in her body seemed to drain away with the sweat, lifting her mood considerably.
The others were equally exhausted, collapsing on the grass in small groups, panting.
Arthur pulled out some bottles of water from the cooler they'd brought, calling out loudly, "Alright, alright, that's enough playing. Come eat!"
Miranda was also preparing to head back when Isabella's voice came from behind.
"Miranda, wait a moment."
Miranda stopped and turned to look at her.
Isabella pointed to another direction on the lawn. "The frisbee landed over there. Come with me to get it."
Miranda looked at those eyes that couldn't hide her thoughts and said nothing, following along.
"Okay."
The two walked one after the other in the opposite direction from the group.
When the figures behind them were completely blocked by a small grove of trees and could no longer be seen, Isabella finally stopped, her pretense of friendliness immediately vanishing.
She turned around, her face full of contempt and disdain.
"Miranda, you're completely unworthy of Clifton! A divorced second-hand woman. You saw our circle today—these are people you'd never even get to meet normally."
"If you're smart, divorce him now and stop dragging down the Prescott name."
Faced with this vicious humiliation, Miranda's expression remained unchanged.
She didn't even spare Isabella a glance, simply bending down to pick up the frisbee at her feet, brushing off the grass.
This indifferent attitude completely enraged Isabella.
She felt like she'd punched cotton—all her strength going nowhere, leaving her frustrated to the point of explosion.
"Did you even hear me!"
Seeing Miranda ignore her, Isabella's face went white with anger.
Watching Miranda's crouched back, a vicious gleam flashed in her eyes.
The ground here sloped slightly downward into a long grassy incline.
If she pushed her down...
Once this thought took root, it grew like wildfire, instantly consuming her entire mind.
Isabella bit her lip, silently stepped forward, and thrust both hands out with all her strength toward Miranda's back!
However, just before her hands could touch Miranda's clothes...
As if she had eyes in the back of her head, Miranda dodged sideways.
Having used all her strength, Isabella missed completely. Her footing failed, and she screamed as she pitched forward down the slope.
"Ahhh!"
She tumbled all the way down the long grassy slope, utterly disheveled.
Only when she rolled to the bottom did Isabella finally stop, her entire body feeling like it had fallen apart, pain shooting through her.
She cried out in pain, looking up at Miranda's unharmed figure at the top of the slope, anger and anxiety churning inside.
Not only had she failed to push Miranda down, but she'd fallen herself.
Her waist felt like it was breaking. She must have hit a protruding rock hard while tumbling down.
In her pain, a vicious plan instantly formed in her mind.
Isabella's eyes rolled, then she used all her remaining strength to let out a piercing scream.
"Ahhh! Help!"
This scream shattered the suburban peace. The group preparing for a picnic not far away jumped in alarm, all looking toward the sound.
"That's Isabella's voice!" Arthur's expression changed. He was the first to rush toward the source of the scream.
Clifton's brow also furrowed instantly as he immediately maneuvered his wheelchair to follow.
Seeing figures running toward her, a gleam of vicious triumph flashed in Isabella's eyes.
She immediately put on a pitiful expression, pointing at Miranda on the slope above, and shouted in a tearful, hoarse voice.
"It was Miranda! She pushed me down from up there!"
Arthur, running at the front, heard this and felt his blood rush to his head, his eyes turning red.
He rushed up to Miranda in a few strides, raising his hand to push her while roaring, "You vicious woman!"
But before his hand could touch Miranda, a stronger hand gripped it tightly.
Clifton had somehow already positioned himself in front of Miranda, his handsome face covered in frost, his eyes cold as knives.
"Arthur."
His voice was heavy with warning.
Arthur couldn't be bothered arguing with him and yanked his hand free, anxiously rushing down the slope to help Isabella up from the ground.
"Isabella, how are you? Where are you hurt?"
"Arthur, my waist... it hurts so much..." Isabella cried pitifully, pointing at her torn clothes at her waist. The skin beneath was already bruised purple, a shocking sight.
Seeing the injury on his sister's waist, Arthur felt both heartache and fury that burned away all his rationality.
Supporting Isabella, he looked up and glared at Miranda, demanding harshly, "Miranda! What did you do to my sister! Look what you've done to her!"
Miranda stood her ground, her expression cold as she met everyone's gaze.
"It wasn't me. She lost her balance and fell on her own."
"Bullshit!" Arthur exploded with profanity. "My sister is a fully grown adult standing here perfectly fine. How could she just fall by herself! Do you think I'm three years old!"
Miranda's gaze moved past him to land on Isabella, still acting, and she curved her lips mockingly.
"You'll have to ask your dear sister about that."
Isabella felt a flutter of guilt under her gaze, but she refused to admit she'd tried to push Miranda and lost her balance.
She immediately cried harder, clutching Arthur's arm as she sobbed.
"Arthur, she pushed me! You have to believe me!"
She cried breathlessly, looking so fragile and helpless that she instantly gained everyone's sympathy.
Celeste was the first to jump out and accuse Miranda. "Miranda, you're too vicious! What did Isabella do to you to make you hurt her like this!"
"Exactly. Who would have thought—she looks so pretty but has such a cruel heart."
"How could Clifton marry a woman like this..."
The murmurs around her felt like countless tiny needles pricking at Miranda.
In an instant, she became the target of everyone's disgust.
Just then, a scholarly-looking couple stepped forward. The bespectacled young woman spoke up with a frown.
"Something doesn't add up," she looked at Isabella. "Even if what you're saying is true and Miranda pushed you, there has to be a motive, right? We haven't heard of any conflict between you two. Why would she push you for no reason?"