Chapter 4
Grace accepted the slap, her head tilting slightly. Her eyes held no light.
Alice quickly moved to Carmen’s side, comforting her. “Mom, I’m fine. There’s only a million dollars in that account. I was afraid she’d spend it recklessly like before, so I didn’t deposit much.”
Grace’s throat burned. She abruptly opened the nearby taxi door. “Please take me to…”
But her mind was blank.
Through the car window, she watched them walk into the house together.
The taxi driver glanced at her and sighed. “Family or enemies? You didn’t say a word, and they slapped you. Forget the fare. Just get out.”
Grace’s suppressed tears finally flowed. She wondered the same thing—were they family or enemies?
Not far away, Alice held Yancey’s hand; a flicker of triumph crossed her eyes.
“Mom, Yancey, do you think Grace really lost her memory? Maybe we should call her back.”
Carmen’s expression darkened. The mention of Grace filled her with disgust. “If she had amnesia, she wouldn’t have found her way here!”
Turning to Yancey, she said, “Call off the engagement. Don’t let Alice suffer. She’s already endured enough. As her mother, I won’t let her face more pain.”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Lambert. I’ll care for Alice for the rest of my life.”
As for Grace? They’d grown up together, but he’d long since tired of her. Besides, years ago, when Grace and Alice went out, Alice was kidnapped. When Alice was found five years later, the truth emerged—Alice had shielded Grace and told her to run.
Grace had run, but done nothing—leaving her sister to be taken. She had been selfish from the start. After Alice returned, Grace bullied her, believing Alice had stolen her place. Whenever Yancey defended Alice, Grace would rage. What happened to her now was self-inflicted.
…
Grace sat alone by the roadside, still in her hospital gown, frail and weak. A car pulled up.
“Grace?” a young woman called.
Grace looked up; the face was familiar, but she couldn’t recall who it was.
“What’s this? Another fight with Yancey? At least change before running away next time.”
“Who are you?”
Joanne Sylvester facepalmed, unlocking the passenger door. “Get in. Honestly, I don’t blame people for getting tired of you. You do this too often. I don’t get why you idolize Yancey.”
Grace got in, sitting silently as Joanne drove to her residential area. “Stay tonight. It doesn’t matter; you’ll probably run back to him tomorrow.”
Grace followed her inside, politely changing into slippers. The place felt familiar—likely a friend’s. She sat on the couch while Joanne poured her warm water.
Holding the cup, Grace felt warmth return. Joanne, exhausted, yawned. “I’m showering. Sleep in the same room. And don’t forget the clothes you left last time.”
She muttered, “Honestly, I wish you’d develop some backbone and stop surrendering to Yancey so easily. You run away, but it never lasts more than three days. He snaps his fingers, and you crawl back, letting him walk all over you. No wonder he and his friends look down on you. Seriously, Grace, if you actually lost your memory, I'd celebrate with fireworks.”