Tricia had no time to respond. She bent over, coughing violently, her knuckles pressing against her trembling lips. The flour they had stuffed into her mouth earlier irritated her throat, triggering a deep, gut-wrenching retch. A moment later, she spat out a mouthful of blood.
Phil’s breath caught. His curse froze in his throat as his gaze fell on the blood-streaked powder pooling on the ground.
His fists clenched, his eyes clouded with a storm of emotions—disgust, resentment, and frustration at his own weakness.
But in the end, all he did was sneer coldly. “Don’t act pitiful. Just because you saved me doesn’t mean I’ll forgive you. If anything happens to my sister, you can bet I’ll kill you myself.”
Tricia wiped the blood from her lips and looked at the garden, now in ruins after the explosion. Her lips curled into a bitter smile. “Just now, your sister nearly killed both you and me.”
Phil’s expression darkened. “Kirsten is still young. She got carried away playing a prank. I’ll deal with her. But you…” His voice sharpened, dripping with contempt. “A vile, disgusting creature like you has no right to judge her. You’re nothing but a maggot crawling in the gutter.”
A maggot in the gutter.
Tricia’s body stiffened, a tremor running through her limbs.
She never thought the day would come when Phil would use such cruel words to describe her.
And yet, in his eyes, Kirsten’s actions—attempting to take their lives—were nothing more than a childish prank.
She looked up at him, her gaze unreadable.
For a brief moment, Phil felt an ache in his chest.
Why?
Why did this woman still have the power to affect him after all these years?
The sight of her vomiting blood had triggered something deep inside him—an instinct, a moment of worry. His first thought had been to take her to a hospital.
But then, he forced himself to remember.
This wasn’t the Tricia he had once loved.
She was his mother’s murderer.
A disgrace addicted to drugs.
There could be no connection between them anymore.
His expression hardened as he met her eyes, his tone cutting like a blade. “From now on, stay out of my sight. Stay away from Kirsten. If I see you again, I’ll make sure there’s no trace left of you.”
Tricia didn’t flinch.
She simply nodded, turned around, and limped away.
She couldn’t fall here.
She wouldn’t let Phil find out she had stomach cancer.
—
Meanwhile, Kirsten had been trembling with fear ever since learning that Phil had been in the garden.
Panic-stricken, she ran to him. The moment she saw him standing there unharmed, she threw herself into his arms and burst into tears.
“Brother, I was so scared! I thought something had happened to you!”
Phil’s jaw tightened. He pushed her away. “If something had happened to me, it would have been your fault.”
His tone was cold.
His disappointment was unmistakable.
Ever since their mother’s death, he and their father had spoiled Kirsten, shielding her from harm. He had never expected that his seemingly well-behaved, sensible sister would go so far as to try to kill someone.
No one else could have set up that gasoline trap.
Only Kirsten had unrestricted access to the garden.
Kirsten’s face paled as she realized the weight of his words. Desperation flashed in her eyes. “Brother, I was wrong! I won’t do it again, I swear! I was just… I was too angry. I wanted her to pay for what she did to Mom.” She quickly pulled their mother’s memory into the conversation, hoping it would soften his heart.
And it did.
Phil’s rigid expression eased ever so slightly.
“But that doesn’t mean you should stain your hands with blood,” he said, his voice calmer now. “You are a daughter of the Knight family. There’s no need for you to resort to such things.”
Kirsten nodded obediently, but as she glanced around, her brow furrowed.
“Brother, where’s Tricia?”
Phil’s voice was devoid of emotion. “I let her go. Don’t trouble her anymore.”
Kirsten’s eyes widened in shock.
“Brother, how can you just let her go?”
Her voice was sharp with disbelief. “Don’t forget, she killed our mother! She’s our mother’s murderer! If you still have feelings for her, can you even call yourself worthy of Mom?”
Phil’s entire body tensed.
His hands curled into fists.
He had convinced himself that he only hated Tricia now.
But Kirsten’s words hit him like a slap, leaving him cold with realization.
Why had he felt anger when he saw her being bullied?
Why had he felt panic when he saw her coughing up blood?
Why did he still care?
Because, deep down, despite everything…
He still loved her.
But she was the woman who had killed her mother.
How could he ever forgive that?
His face remained expressionless, but his heart pounded in his chest. He forced his voice to remain steady as he said, “Don’t talk nonsense. I only let her go because I don’t want you getting hurt. Tricia is a nobody now—she’s been to prison, she has no future. But you… you have a bright one ahead of you.”
Kirsten let out a breath of relief.
She had been afraid that Phil still had feelings for Tricia.
But she wouldn’t listen to his command.
She wouldn’t leave Tricia alone.
Because there was something much bigger at stake.
Her secret could never be exposed.
And as long as Tricia was alive…
That secret was in danger.
She had to get rid of her.
