Seeing me like that, she didn’t look surprised, just gave a cruel, mocking smile.
“Oh, looking for this?” She waved the medicine box and, to my horror, poured all the pills out the window. They disappeared into the grass below.
“You’re disgusting,” she said mockingly, clapping her hands. “Carl is mine and you and your weak father should leave!”
I almost lunged at her, trembling from the allergy and pure hatred.
Jocelyn calmly grabbed her phone, opened some photos and showed them to me.
The photos showed my father in the ICU, pale and with bluish lips. His nasal tube was crooked, the IV bag empty and he seemed untreated.
“The old man’s barely holding on,” she said cruelly. “Wouldn’t it be easier if he just pulled out the tube?”
My mind went blank. I couldn’t hear anything else. I rushed over, grabbed her by the neck and pinned her to the wall. “Jocelyn, if you touch my dad, I’ll kill you!”
She didn’t resist and even smiled, but then she screamed, “Camelia, what are you doing? Let me go! Carl, help me!”
She broke free, stumbled out of the room and a scream was followed by a heavy thud on the stairs. I stood there, breathing hard, my hands shaking.
“Jocelyn!” Carl called from downstairs, running up quickly. He saw Jocelyn at the corner of the stairs, holding her ankle and crying.
He looked at me with cold eyes. “Camelia, will you ever stop?!”
I thrust my phone at him. “What happened to my dad at the hospital?! You promised to save him!”
Carl looked at the photo, frowning and confused. He had arranged for doctors to stay with my dad all night and the medicine was being given. How did this happen?
“Carl,” Jocelyn suddenly clung to him, trembling and crying. “That’s a photo of Uncle Rowan when he first arrived at the hospital. I kept it to show the doctors, but Camelia saw it, got furious, hit me and accused me of hurting Uncle…”
Hearing this, Carl’s confusion disappeared and turned into complete disgust. “You’ve lost your mind,” he said firmly, pulling his hand away. “I’ll have someone take you to a mental hospital tomorrow.”
He quickly grabbed his phone and called his assistant. “Send a message saying Madam is mentally unstable and needs to be hospitalized.”
At that moment, Jocelyn softly tugged his sleeve. “Carl, sending her to a mental hospital is too harsh. I know a doctor who can give her effective ECT treatment at home.”
Electroconvulsive therapy?! I stared at Carl. “Don’t listen to her! She wants me dead!”
He looked at me like I was a naive child. “Jocelyn only cares about you. Why are you so ungrateful?”
Ungrateful. The word hit me like an ice pick. Knowing arguing was pointless, I stopped and ran to the door. But Carl was quicker, grabbing my wrist so hard it nearly broke it.
“Let me go!” I shouted, struggling and clawing at his arm, leaving red marks.
“Hold her!” Carl growled at the servants, who came running.
Several people surrounded me. I kicked and struggled, but they overpowered me, twisted my arm and pinned me down.
In the next moment, my wrists and ankles were tied tightly, leaving me unable to move. I looked at Carl, full of anger and despair. “Carl, you’ll regret this!”
He just turned his head away, cold and indifferent, as if it didn’t concern him.
