The rain came down harder and harder. I knelt in the mud, my forehead pressed against the headstone, and cried for a long, long time.
It took a while before I could stand.
I was soaked through when I got back to the Henson residence. The moment I pushed the door open, I saw Dean and Gwendolen sitting in the living room.
Dean's expression was dark. “Where the hell were you?”
I lowered my eyes. “I went to get groceries.”
Gwendolen covered her mouth and laughed. “Then where are they? Rebecca, you don't even bother making your lies believable. What, were you out meeting some man?”
The bodyguard behind Dean spoke up. “Mr. Henson, Ms. Pruitt went to the cemetery.”
He pulled out his phone and showed a photo of me wiping the headstone.
Dean's face went rigid. He raised his hand and slapped me across the face.
“You lying bitch.”
My head snapped to the side, my cheek burning.
Then I turned back. For the first time, I looked him in the eye.
“I was cleaning my parents' headstone. Is that a crime?”
Dean let out a cold laugh.
“Your parents don't deserve a burial. When they were destroying my sister's life, did they ever stop to think that her life mattered too?”
My fists clenched. For the first time, I raised my voice.
“My parents never tried to hurt anyone! Juliana was my best friend. When she got hurt, I was devastated too. I felt guilty too! I've already given up everything I have……”
“Shut up!”
Dean kicked me in the knee.
I crashed to the floor. My vision went black.
Gwendolen's face lit up with satisfaction. She crouched down, reaching out as if to help me.
But the instant her fingers brushed my arm, her body lurched backward and she fell.
“Ah——”
Dean rushed over and caught her in his arms. “Gwen!”
Gwendolen's eyes brimmed with tears, her voice small and wounded.
“Dean……I was just trying to help her up, and she pushed me……”
Dean lifted his head. His gaze cut into me like a blade.
“You piece of trash! You ruined my sister, and now you're going after Gwen!”
He turned to his men.
“Break both her arms.”
Two of them grabbed my arms. A wet, snapping “crack”.
Both arms went limp, dangling at wrong angles. My mouth opened, but the pain was so blinding that no sound came out.
Dean left with Gwendolen.
I writhed on the floor, cold sweat soaking through my clothes.
Shadows appeared in the doorway.
Miles Dickerson. The one who drugged me at the party.
He leaned against the doorframe, looking me up and down, the corner of his mouth curling.
“Hey, sweetheart. Last time we played that little game, the turn landed on me. You still owe me my prize.”
I stared at them, chest heaving. “What do you want?”
Miles grinned. “I won the game fair and square, and I never collected. Your Mr. Henson told me to come get my reward myself.”
I shook my head hard. “That's impossible, he wouldn't……”
The words died halfway out.
Something sharp twisted inside my chest.
Of course it was possible. Dean hated me enough to want me torn apart. He hadn't even blinked when he ordered my arms broken.
I shrank back. “This is the Henson residence. You can't do this here.”
Right then, my phone rang.
I used the last scrap of strength I had to nudge my wrist forward and push the phone against my ear.
It was Dean.
“Dean! Dean, I was wrong, I was wrong, I shouldn't have gone to my parents' graves, please let me go, don't let these men hurt me……”
His voice was flat with impatience. “Professor Joe is here. I don't have time for you right now.”
He paused. When he spoke again, his tone was colder. “Don't try anything stupid.”
