Chapter 18 Going Back on the Word
According to their arrangement, Quinley should have been in Novaria by now.
Her failure to appear had predictably unleashed Sylvia's wrath.
"Where are you?" Sylvia demanded the moment Quinley answered her call, her voice sharp with accusation.
For three years, Quinley had been as docile as a lamb. When Sylvia pointed east, she never dared look west.
But today, for the first time, she had defied a direct order.
"Ms. Parker, my family is facing an emergency," Quinley explained, her voice steady despite her racing heart. "As soon as I resolve this situation, I'll come to Novaria immediately."
Sylvia had no interest in explanations. Her only concern was ensuring Quinley's swift disappearance from Rosewood City.
"I don't care what emergency you're dealing with," she snapped. "You need to leave now!"
But Quinley couldn't abandon her family—not like this, not when they needed her most. "Please give me one week," she pleaded. "I promise I'll go after that."
"Are you trying to negotiate with me?" The temperature of Sylvia's voice dropped several degrees.
Angering Sylvia would certainly have consequences. The older woman had the power to destroy what little security Quinley had managed to build.
But there were lines even Quinley wouldn't cross. "My family needs me right now," she said simply. "I can't abandon them. Please try to understand."
The call disconnected before she finished speaking—Sylvia's silent verdict.
Less than thirty minutes later, disaster struck again.
Dennis had been hit by a car on his way back to campus.
The driver had fled the scene. The traffic cameras at the intersection had conveniently malfunctioned.
A passerby had found Dennis crumpled on the asphalt and called an ambulance, but by the time he reached the hospital, his condition was critical.
When Quinley received the call, the blood drained from her face.
She rushed to the door, fumbling with her shoes when Marlee emerged from the bedroom, disturbed by the commotion.
"Quinny, it's so late. Where are you going?"
Quinley's hands trembled as she tied her laces, but she forced her voice to remain steady.
"Mom, a friend just called. She's going through a bad breakup and needs someone to talk to." The lie came easily, born of necessity rather than deception.
Marlee accepted it without question. "Be careful on the road."
At the hospital, Quinley paced outside the operating room for hours, staring at the glowing green light above the doors, her heart in her throat.
Dawn broke before Dennis finally emerged. He was barely recognizable—his head wrapped in white bandages, his face so swollen that his features had disappeared into purple flesh.
"Denny," she whispered, tears streaming down her face as she reached for his hand, only to find even his fingers were damaged.
The prognosis was grim. During the accident, his head had struck the pavement with tremendous force.
The doctor warned that even if the surgery proved successful, he might suffer permanent brain damage.
Dennis was quickly transferred to the ICU, and the medical bills began to arrive—one after another, each with a larger sum than the last.
With the hit-and-run driver gone and no surveillance footage, the accident's liability remained unclear.
All of Dennis's treatment costs would come directly from Quinley's empty pockets.
Before her planned departure, Sylvia had given Quinley a bank card containing a substantial sum—compensation for her years of loyal service.
Quinley had never intended to use that money. She had planned to present it as a wedding gift when Zachary and Alicia eventually married, a way of repaying Sylvia's supposed generosity.
But now, with Dennis's life hanging in the balance, such considerations became meaningless.
Yet when she tried to use the card at the hospital payment counter, she received devastating news: the account had been frozen.
Quinley stood there in shock, her mind racing through increasingly desperate options.
The Elikin family home couldn't be sold—her aging parents needed stability; she couldn't make them homeless again.
Her own apartment had been purchased in Zachary's name. Without the deed, she couldn't sell it.
Returning to her place, Quinley gathered all the jewelry and designer handbags Zachary had given her over the years. She sold everything of value.
But it was like trying to fill an ocean with droplets of water.
In her most desperate moments, she had considered asking Zachary for help. But Adela informed her that he was away on business, no longer in Rosewood City.
As a last resort, Quinley decided to approach Sylvia directly.
---
At the mansion's entrance, she begged the butler to announce her, but Sylvia was too angry to grant an audience.
Quinley waited outside the villa for two hours under the scorching sun. Her skin burned, her throat parched, but she remained standing—a solitary figure against the imposing gates.
She didn't encounter a forgiving Sylvia, but instead came face to face with Alicia.
Alicia emerged from her car with practiced grace, every movement calculated to display her wealth and refinement.
She glanced at Quinley with artfully feigned surprise. "Weren't you supposed to be studying abroad? Why are you still here?"
Exhausted from a sleepless night, Quinley looked haggard. Her lips were cracked when she replied, "I need to see Ms. Parker."
A fleeting, cold smile touched Alicia's lips before she turned to the butler. "Haven't you told Ms. Parker that Ms. Elikin is here?"
The butler maintained his formal posture at the gate. "Ms. Parker specifically said she would not see anyone."
Alicia let out a soft sigh and approached Quinley with a sympathetic expression that didn't reach her eyes. "Ms. Parker isn't feeling well. Perhaps... you should come back another day."
Quinley remained silent, unwilling to leave.
Alicia lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Let me go in and speak to her on your behalf. Wait for my news."
She appeared genuinely helpful, but Quinley knew better than to trust Alicia's sudden kindness. Still, what choice did she have?
"Thank you, Ms. Davis."
Alicia smiled lightly before following the butler inside.
Quinley waited until nightfall, her shadow stretching and then disappearing as the sun set behind the mansion.
It was after eight when Alicia finally emerged, her expression perfectly calibrated to convey regret.
"I'm so sorry, Ms. Elikin. Ms. Parker had a terrible migraine. She was in such pain that I couldn't bring myself to bother her with this." She paused, her voice honeyed with false concern.
"If there's something urgent, you can tell me instead. I'll do everything I can to help."
Quinley understood perfectly—asking Alicia for help would be digging her own grave.
"Thanks anyway, Ms. Davis. I need to go now."
Alicia was someone Quinley couldn't afford to antagonize; keeping her distance was the only safe option.
---
Upon returning to the hospital, a nurse hurried to intercept her, anxiety etched across her face.
"Ms. Elikin, there's a group of men outside your brother's room. They're preventing staff from entering. You should come quickly."
Quinley's stomach dropped as she rushed to Dennis's ward.
The loan sharks had returned.
They blocked the entrance to Dennis's room like a wall of flesh and malice, intimidating the medical staff who tried to check on their patient.
"You're going back on your word?" Quinley confronted them, disbelieving their audacity.
The leader crossed his arms, laughing coldly. "We're not noble like you. This is how we make our living. If he dies, who's going to pay his debt?"
His eyes narrowed with contempt as he assessed her.
"I told you I would pay," Quinley insisted firmly.
"With what?" he scoffed. "I see your pretty face, though. Here's an idea—I know some quick ways to make money. If you're lucky, you might catch a rich man's eye, and our little problem disappears instantly."
As he spoke, he reached out to touch Quinley's face.
She instinctively backed away, only to bump into another man behind her.
"Wow, she's a hot one!" he exclaimed, grabbing her backside with calloused fingers.
Outnumbered and alone, Quinley found herself trapped between predators. The hospital corridor suddenly seemed miles from help.
But just as her situation seemed most dire, a commanding voice cut through the hallway:
"Stop!"