Chapter 42 At the Scene of the Crash
Elizabeth sent Timothy a message and allowed herself a faint smile.
In the kitchen, Quinton had just finished cooking. They each had a bowl of beef and tomato pasta, the aroma filling the small space, and began talking about the future.
"Elizabeth, I want to start livestreaming my singing," Quinton said. His voice was his one undeniable gift.
"Alright. I'll write the songs for you," Elizabeth replied, already picturing her own dream—a small milk tea shop, nothing grand, with green plants outside and a calm, inviting atmosphere. "And I'm going to open a bubble tea shop."
Once their plans were set, they began taking actual steps. Quinton's livestream would need an account and equipment. Elizabeth needed to find the right storefront.
Elizabeth called Mabel to join them; Mabel was always complaining she was bored. The three went to a computer mall and bought the necessary gear.
After the purchase, Elizabeth went to the restroom, leaving Quinton and Mabel waiting outside. A small child came running, braking too late and nearly colliding with Mabel. Quinton caught her arm. "Careful."
The child's mother hurried over, apologizing before pulling her mischievous kid away.
Mabel's eyes curved with a smile. "Thanks, Quinton."
The mall wasn't crowded today, but Quinton's refined features and white hair drew attention. Beside him, Elizabeth and Mabel were equally striking. Some people's gazes lingered on Quinton's legs with quiet pity. He was used to it.
Elizabeth caught his wrist, meeting his eyes, and they both smiled.
Armando was also at the mall, here to visit a Johnson Group retail store. He hadn't expected to run into Elizabeth, Quinton, and Mabel. He'd already forgotten about his drunken call to Elizabeth the night before.
His cool gaze swept over Elizabeth and Quinton before moving on. Elizabeth ignored him, greeting Tom with a polite nod.
"Ms. Simpson, can we talk?" Armando asked Mabel with a courteous smile. He wanted to bring Mindy to apologize to her, but Mabel had never given the chance.
Mabel tilted her head. "Bring Mindy here, have her slap herself in front of me, and I'll let it go."
Armando nodded, turning to Tom. "Bring her."
Mindy had been kept at home for some time. Today she was finally let out, though only to apologize to Mabel. Her mood lifted slightly.
Elizabeth quietly told Quinton to wait in the car. Mindy was petty, and she didn't want her targeting Quinton. She stayed with Mabel—after all, this had started because of her. Mabel didn't know the full story.
Armando glanced at Elizabeth, then looked away. "Ms. Simpson, there's a coffee shop downstairs. Shall we go there?"
Mabel had intended to make Mindy apologize in public, but she wasn't that heartless. She agreed to the coffee shop.
Mindy arrived with Sherry. Sherry frowned when she saw Elizabeth sitting opposite Armando. She quickly sent a text, then deleted it.
With Armando present, Mindy didn't dare make trouble. She gave Mabel a stiff apology. "Sorry, Ms. Simpson."
Mabel's voice was cool. "Slap yourself."
Displeasure flickered across Mindy's face. She had never endured such humiliation. With Armando's warning in mind, she slapped herself.
Mabel gave a faint hum of satisfaction. Mindy stayed, feeling the sting of embarrassment. "Armando, I'm leaving." Before she turned away, she shot Elizabeth a glare. All of this—her humiliation—was Elizabeth's fault.
Elizabeth's expression stayed neutral. She'd expected Mindy to hold a grudge.
"Elizabeth, let's go," Mabel said.
She'd read online about Elizabeth's feud with Sherry and now, seeing Sherry in person, thought, 'Compared to Elizabeth, her figure falls short — Armando's taste is clearly debatable.'
Sherry clung to Armando's arm. "Armando, I have a prenatal check-up later. Will you come with me?"
Elizabeth and Mabel stood to leave just as Sherry spoke. Elizabeth arched a brow, lips curling faintly.
Armando glanced at Sherry's belly. "Alright."
"Elizabeth," Sherry called suddenly.
Elizabeth walked away as if she hadn't heard.
Sherry's voice came from behind her. "Elizabeth, I'm sorry."
Sorry for what? In matters of the heart, there was no point in forcing anything.
Sherry watched Elizabeth's back disappear through the door, then looked up at Armando with a smile. "Let's go."
Outside, two loud bangs shattered the air. Screams erupted.
"Call an ambulance!"
"Call the police!"
Armando stood frozen at the coffee shop entrance, eyes wide at the scene unfolding on the street. His face went pale. He shoved Sherry's arm away, his lips moving soundlessly before he found his voice. "Elizabeth!"
Sherry stumbled at the sudden push. Tom caught her before she fell. His gaze darted toward the street—Armando was lifting a car, trying to free someone trapped beneath. Tom let go of Sherry and ran to help.
Sherry's mouth curved into a slow, cold smile.
She once had a cat. Soft, adorable, loved by everyone. One day, it wandered out and ate the fish the neighbor left out. When it came back, it was drowned in her bathtub.
Elizabeth lay on the pavement, eyes open but frozen. Her gaze locked on Sherry standing at the coffee shop door.
"Elizabeth."
Tears welled in her eyes. Warm blood splattered her cheek—it was Quinton's.
"Quinton…" Her own head was bleeding, pain blooming before darkness swallowed her.
When the car had come hurtling toward them, Quinton had thrown himself over her, shielding her with his body.
"Mr. Robinson, the ER just received a car accident victim."
Timothy strode in. "Status?"
"Severe head trauma, heavy bleeding."
Outside the ER, Timothy saw Mabel and Armando. His brow furrowed. Mabel opened her mouth, but Timothy was already inside.
When he saw Elizabeth on the operating table, oxygen mask over her face, unconscious, a chill gripped him. For the first time, the hand holding his scalpel trembled. He forced himself to steady it. Only he knew the fury boiling beneath his calm—the Elizabeth he'd left at home this morning had been perfectly fine.
One month later.
Elizabeth's eyes fluttered open in her hospital bed. She had lost the most important person in her life.
The cruelest punishment was not death—it was making someone live with pain, slowly, relentlessly.
Her head throbbed, but her mind was clear on one thing: from this day forward, her life would be consumed by revenge. She would make the person who killed Quinton feel pain, piece by piece.
Her prime suspect was Sherry. She would never forget that smile. She knew what Sherry loved, and she would take it from her, slowly.
Elizabeth's memory was fractured. The neurologist said head trauma often caused amnesia; waking at all was lucky. She might have lost much, but she still remembered Armando.
Timothy stood by her bed, his gaze hardening. The pen in his hand snapped, the broken plastic biting into his skin.