Does he really hate her that much?
He'd rather ignore her requests and watch his own company suffer?
Sabrina knew the hole Pama Conglomerate was in right now. She knew how badly they needed Twinkle. If this deal went through, it'd be a major hit to Gracewell.
And yet Cedric would rather let Pama fall apart than even talk to her?
She didn't leave because of some huge scandal. She hadn't done anything close to criminal. Just walked away when she'd hit rock bottom.
Was that really unforgivable?
"Why would I bother?" Cedric let out a mocking scoff, like her question was a joke.
He turned sharply, and her hand brushed off the hem of his coat.
"Maybe the better question is-why did you come back?" His voice was low, clenched, heavy with restraint-like he was one second away from snapping.
"I..." Sabrina froze, stunned by how furious and on edge he looked.
Something about the whole thing felt wrong. Off in a way that made her skin crawl.
This wasn't how he was supposed to react. None of this was how she expected.
"I know Pama's been in touch. From a business point of view, it makes sense-so why didn't you work with them?" Cedric had been confused himself. Pama had prestige, better offers, everything. And yet the beauty expert turned them down.
Was it pride? Or...
In that moment, something clicked for him.
A horrible, ugly possibility flashed through his mind.
His hands clenched tightly by his sides. He leaned in, voice barely above a whisper, like it took everything in him just to keep it together.
"Or do you think a life is something you can pay off with a lucrative deal? Is that the trade, Miss Lionhart?"
He kept pushing, each word sharper than the last.
"I kill someone close to you, then turn around and offer you a deal worth millions-would you take it?"
With Maxon Group's power, they could totally swing something like that. The only question was-would Sabrina agree?
She stood there, pale, her mouth open, but no sound came out.
Because all she could see written all over Cedric's face... was hate.
A life. What life was he talking about?
She wanted to ask, but Cedric didn't give her the chance. He turned and stormed out.
The second he was gone, it was like the air dropped out of the room.
Sabrina crumpled to the floor.
Completely drained.
What just happened?
Why couldn't she figure out what he meant? Why did it feel like there was a gaping hole in her memory?
The thought hit her hard.
She grabbed at her head, panic overtaking her. The fear of forgetting something important-it clawed at her, making her chest feel tight, like she couldn't breathe.
This wasn't the first time either. The way Margaret talked to her-full of hatred and a kind of disgust-accusing her of being cold-blooded, calling her a murderer...
What had she done?
"Madam? Are you okay?" The waitress by the door had been watching the whole thing, and now hurried over, clearly worried. Sabrina still hadn't stood up.
"I..." Sabrina looked up, brow furrowed, pain flickering in her eyes.
Something was deeply wrong. She felt it.
But how could she explain it?
No head trauma, no accident-and yet the terrifying realization that she was missing pieces of her past slammed into her like a freight train.
She was fully conscious, totally aware.
And somehow, she couldn't remember.
She knew deep down that certain things had actually happened, yet her mind was a complete blank. In fact, she couldn't even tell what was real anymore-whether something had truly occurred or was just something she imagined.
At first, she thought maybe she was just forgetful. But when things got worse, she brought it up with her mom.
Lynne took her to the hospital, and they went to a bunch of departments. Everyone had their own opinion, and after getting referred around, she finally ended up at neurology. That's how she met Monica.
She didn't really get what "neurology" meant, but just hearing the word made her feel uneasy.
Monica explained that the brain's all about nerves and since it's part of the body, that falls under neurology. She told her not to stress-it was nothing major. Kind of like a fibroadenoma in the chest: sounds scary, but totally harmless.
"Madam, do you want me to call an ambulance for you?" the waiter asked kindly, noticing how pale she looked.
Sabrina shook her head and slowly stood up, unsteady on her feet. "No, it's fine... really, thank you."
"You're welcome, take care." The waiter couldn't help but remind her gently as she started to leave.
"Thanks." Sabrina leaned against the wall as she walked out of Auburn Dining. The chilly, dry wind hit her face the second she stepped outside, clearing her head just a little.
This wasn't right. Monica had told her-her emotional state mattered the most. She needed to stay in a good mood.
She lifted her hand and wiped at her eyes, forcing the tears back. Wiping tears was easy. Feeling happy-that was the hard part.
In a daze, she made her way to the curb and flagged down a cab, giving the address to Monica's clinic.
*****
At that moment, Monica was taking a short break from back-to-back patients, finally getting a sip of water and chatting gossip with the front desk nurse. She'd just set down her cup and was about to head back when she caught sight of someone stepping inside the clinic, looking totally out of it.
Monica froze. Everyone knew Sabrina avoided this place like the plague-said the clinic constantly reminded her she might have something wrong neurologically, and that made it hard to feel okay.
But now? She came here voluntarily?
"Sabrina!" Monica clicked across the floor in heels, quickly making her way over. She bent down a little to meet Sabrina's eyes and saw her pale, spiritless face-completely unlike her usual upbeat self. Monica's heart sank. Her voice softened instinctively, with a gentle warmth: "What's going on?"
"I..."
"Dr. Simpson, the patient in Room 3 is freaking out, says you've been gone too long," a nurse's voice cut in at the same moment.
Sabrina realized she was interfering with Monica's work and quickly said, "I'm fine, really. Go ahead and see your patient. I'll just wait here."
"Sabrina, I heard there's a new strawberry drink at the Starbucks downstairs. Go grab one while I finish up, okay? I'll be down in a minute." Monica kept her tone light and coaxing.
Apparently, the nurse didn't think Monica heard and stepped closer. "Dr. Simpson, the patient's really mad. They said you've been drinking water forever."
Monica's smile dropped like a stone. Without a beat, she turned around and snapped, "I'll do whatever the hell I want! If they're that impatient, they can go somewhere else. I told management a thousand times-I don't deal with people who've got explosive tempers. Tell him to leave!"
The nurse flinched, caught off guard by the outburst.
But the other nurses barely looked up. Honestly, anyone who'd worked here long enough knew-Sabrina was basically a VIP. Whenever she showed up, Monica, who usually carried herself like some beauty queen, would switch modes and turn into her biggest cheerleader-ready to do anything just to keep her in good spirits.
So naturally, the two of them ended up heading downstairs together for that strawberry drink at Starbucks.
"Are you sure this is gonna work?" Sabrina's attention quickly shifted thanks to Dr. Simpson's chill attitude-less sadness now, more curiosity.
"Why wouldn't it?" Monica casually flipped her hair, looking effortlessly stunning. "He was never my patient anyway. I already told him to transfer hospitals-he wouldn't listen, so I had to be a bit tough with him."
"So, what is your specialty then?" Sabrina asked cautiously, her tone probing but tentative.
"I specialize in..." Monica paused just long enough to tease, letting Sabrina think she'd finally gotten a straight answer-then playfully tapped her on the head. "People like you. Scatterbrained but surprisingly sensitive. Forget a few things and start thinking it's the end of the world."
Sabrina smiled quietly. "You saw through me again."
She'd tried to fish answers out of Monica many times over the years. Any decent doctor should be clear about their field, and if she could just figure that out, maybe she'd finally know what was really happening with her own health.
But Monica was just as much of a riddle-neither her online bios nor her private clinic listings ever mentioned a specific specialty. Even her business card was vague: just the clinic's name, 'Neurology,' and a tiny dot... then 'Monica Simpson.'
Monica liked to say she'd become successful by being herself-drawing in patients with her name, not flaunting some flashy title.
"So, Sabrina, did something happen?" Monica asked like she was just gossiping over lunch.
Sabrina's smile faded, the weight from earlier creeping back onto her face.
They were already downstairs at the café. Monica didn't press her-just let Sabrina pick a seat while she went to the counter and came back with two strawberry drinks. Seeing that Sabrina was still down, Monica threw in a slice of chocolate cake, hoping it might lift her mood a bit.
She set the tray down and sat across from Sabrina, who took a sip of the drink. The sweet and tangy taste cut through her sadness like a reset button. Holding the cup in both hands, Sabrina looked up and pleaded, "Monica, can we keep this between us? Please don't tell my mom I came here today."
Every time Lynne even heard about Sabrina's condition, she'd get super upset. She might try to hide it, but Sabrina could tell-it always got to her.
"Sure thing." Monica sipped her drink like it was no big deal.
There's this saying-if you don't want a moment to feel all heavy and serious, you have to be the first to act like it's no big deal. That's the vibe Monica always gave off-completely unfazed.
"Monica, be honest with me. Did I forget something... really, really important?" Sabrina asked softly, her gaze lowering to the table.
"Like what?" Monica remembered what Lynne had told her, straightened her back, and set down her drink, her tone more serious this time. "Before I answer, you need to tell me what made you come here and ask me that out of the blue."
"It's not a big deal," Sabrina mumbled, not mentioning Cedric or Margaret. "Just... two people said something that made me feel like I've forgotten something-something big. And when they looked at me, it wasn't just anger. It was more like... they were really hurt. And it made me think-maybe I did do something bad to them."
Her voice got quieter near the end. That feeling-it wasn't something she could easily shake off.
She meant every word of it too. Sure, Cedric and Margaret were angry when they talked to her-furious, even-but deep down in their eyes, buried under all that anger, was sorrow.
That... that's the part that haunted her most.
