Chapter 73 Chapter 73
Amelia
We walked side by side toward the waiting Maybach, its black body shining under the estate lights. The driver stood by the open back door, stiff and silent, staring straight ahead like he was counting seconds.
My fingers curled tightly around my purse. “Are you alright?” Maxwell asked as we slowed near the car.
“Yes,” I replied quickly, I caught myself and forced a small smile. “I am fine.”
He nodded, but his eyes stayed on me a little longer than necessary. I could feel his gaze even after I looked away. My attention drifted back to my phone, my chest tightening when I saw the screen was still dark.
Nothing. What on earth was wrong with Adele? Why hadn’t she called yet? She was my only hope, and I had trusted her—foolishly to come through for me. A fresh wave of anxiety hit me.
What if something really had happened to her? What if she actually fell down the stairs?
My heartbeat grew louder with every step we took. The closer we got to the car, the harder it became to breathe normally. We were just a step away from the door when Maxwell spoke again.
“Are you expecting a call?”
The question caught me off guard. I stiffened instantly, my body reacting before my mind could catch up. I let out a nervous laugh, but it sounded strained, even to my own ears.
“No. Of course not,” I said, shaking my head. I quickly slipped the phone back into my purse, my fingers clumsy as I did. “I just received a message from a friend.”
“Hm.” That was all he said, but the sound stayed with me. It wasn’t disbelief exactly but it wasn’t trust either. A knot formed in my stomach. Maybe I was overthinking it. Or maybe he was already starting to notice the cracks. At this point, fear and suspicion were tangled together so tightly in my mind that I could no longer tell which one was real.
I straightened my shoulders and took a slow breath as the driver closed the door behind us, silently praying that Adele would call before it was too late.
The driver closed the door behind us, and the car moved forward smoothly. The estate gates stood ahead of us, I folded my hands tightly in my lap, my back stiff, every nerve in my body screaming as we got closer to the exit.
I knew once we passed those gates, there would be no turning back.
My mind raced as I searched desperately for another excuse, another lie that could stop us from going to the game. But my thoughts felt tangled and slow, blocked by fear and nervousness. The harder I tried to think, the emptier my head became.
Then Maxwell’s phone rang, the sound made my heart leap. I silently prayed, my lips barely moving. Please, God, let it be work. I promise I will go to church this Sunday if it is. I hadn’t stepped into a church in years, but I was ready to make deals with heaven at this point.
Maxwell glanced at his phone, and his expression changed immediately. “It’s my mother,” he said.He answered quickly. “Mom?”
I watched his face as he listened, and with every second, the calm I had come to expect from him faded. His jaw tightened. His shoulders stiffened. His free hand slowly curled into a fist.
“What?” he asked sharply. “When?” There was a brief pause. Then his voice dropped, tight and strained. “I am coming.”
He ended the call and leaned forward without hesitation.
“Stop the car,” he said firmly to the driver.
“Now.”
The car slowed. Inside, my chest felt like it might burst but I didn’t let a single emotion show. I kept my face neutral, my body still, even as relief crashed through me so hard my knees felt weak.
My prayers had been answered. I drew in a deep breath, steadying myself, forcing the wild joy down where it couldn’t be seen. No dancing, Just controlled breathing and a carefully worried expression.
I really am going to church on Sunday, I thought, exhaling slowly.
The Maybach slowed and came to a stop just beyond the estate gate. “What happened?” I asked quietly, careful to keep my voice steady.
“My father,” Maxwell said, his hand tightening around his phone. “He collapsed. They are taking him to the hospital.”
My chest tightened but not entirely with fear. This was the second time his father had collapsed, and despite everything, I truly hoped he would be fine.
Beneath the shock, though, came a traitorous wave of relief, sharp and undeniable. “Oh my God,” I whispered, reaching for his arm. “Do you want me to come with you?” Please say no, I added silently.
He paused, studying me for a brief moment, as though weighing the idea. “No,” he said at last. “Go to the game. Be with your parents. We will meet another time.”
Another time, the words settled in my chest like freedom. “I am so sorry,” I said, my voice thick, my face carefully arranged with concern.
“Please keep me updated. I wish I could come with you.”
“You will meet them again some other time,” he replied. “Under better circumstances. I will call you later.”
I opened the door and stepped out of the car, lingering just long enough to look hesitant and torn before moving away. The driver nodded once and closed the door behind me.
The Maybach pulled away slowly, heading back toward the estate road, while I stood there watching, my shoulders slumped, my expression carefully controlled, my relief safely hidden beneath the mask I had perfected.
As the Maybach pulled away in the opposite direction, I stood there for a few seconds longer. Then, the moment it disappeared from sight, I turned and ran.
I hurried back toward the mansion, my heels clicking sharply against the pavement. Relief flooded my chest with every step. My pulse was still racing, but fear was no longer driving it, urgency was.
I burst through the front doors and moved quickly down the hallway, already reaching for my keys. I was almost at the garage when another driver approached me. “Let me drive you, ma’am,” he offered.
“Oh, thank you,” I replied without slowing down. “I won’t be back until late tonight.”
I slid into the car, started the engine, and drove out of the estate without looking back, heading straight for the girls’ game.