Wallace caught her with sharp reflexes, his expression turning black.
“Jacqueline! You actually pushed her!”
I hadn't so much as touched her with a finger.
But I was past the point of explaining.
“Yeah, I pushed her.” I twisted my mouth into something uglier than crying. “And I didn't just want to push her—I wanted to kill her.”
Something vicious flashed through Wallace's eyes.
He closed the distance, seized my collar, and hauled me off the ground.
“Touch one hair on Addie's head again, and I'll make you wish you were dead.”
He flung me aside.
I slammed down beside the hallway trash can, my forehead catching its sharp metal edge, and blood ran into my eyes.
Through the blur I saw Adeline leaning into Wallace's arms, smiling at me in triumph.
The phone in my pocket buzzed.
My hands were shaking as I pulled it out.
A new reply on the forum post.
The "me" from seven years ago had sent a direct message：【What's wrong with you? Why would you say I'll die on the operating table? Wallace is so good to me. Are you sure you have the right person?】
【Who are you?】
Staring at those naive, bewildered words on the screen, I felt my chest seize so hard I couldn't breathe.
The right person?
I'd asked myself that same question countless times.
Was the cruel, brutal man standing before me really the same boy who once ran through three blocks of pouring rain just to buy me a strawberry cake?
My fingers trembled as I typed out a reply.
【Him being good to you now doesn't mean he'll stay that way. He'll cheat. He'll throw you away for another woman. You won't even get to keep your child.】
I hit send, shoved the phone back into my pocket, and closed my eyes.
A nurse who couldn't stand watching any longer snuck me into a makeshift room converted from a storage closet.
No heat. Just a hard iron-frame cot.
I curled up on it and spent the first night after losing my child.
The next morning, Wallace's assistant pushed open the door.
He tossed a document at me, tone strictly business：“Mrs. Farley, Mr. Farley wants you to sign this agreement.”
I picked it up. 《Screenplay Copyright Transfer Agreement》.
That screenplay was 《Spring Banquet》, the one I'd spent three full years writing, burning through countless sleepless nights.
It was the only proof I had that I was more than a caged bird living off Wallace Farley.
“What is he trying to do?” My grip on the papers tightened.
“Miss Henson's about to make her comeback. Mr. Farley plans to use this film to get her a Best Actress award.” The assistant's face betrayed nothing. “Mr. Farley says that as long as you sign, he'll consider not pursuing the matter of you pushing Miss Henson yesterday.”
I laughed. The kind of laugh that comes when fury burns past its limit.
He wanted to take my life's work and hand it to the woman who cost me my child?
I threw the blanket off, didn't even stop for shoes, and ran barefoot to the VIP suite on the top floor.
The door was open.
Adeline sat on the sofa, holding the first draft of my screenplay.
Wallace was half-kneeling in front of her, gently massaging her swollen calves.
“This script is so good, Wallace… do you really think I could play the lead?” Adeline cooed, voice dripping sweetness.
“Of course. It was made for you.” His eyes were soft with indulgence.
I rushed in and snatched the script from Adeline's hands.
“This is mine! Who gave you permission to touch it!”
Adeline flinched and shrank back into Wallace's arms.
He rose, his face going cold in an instant：“Jacqueline, what the hell is wrong with you now?”
“Wallace, you want money, I'll give you money. You want me to step aside for her, fine, I already have. But this screenplay is my life! What gives you the right to take it!” I screamed, tears spilling down my face before I could stop them.
