Lulled by the anesthetic, Margaret soon sank back into a heavy sleep.
When she woke, the Little Tails group chat already showed over 99 unread messages.
[Why did Sister Margaret suddenly go quiet?]
[@Margaret Did something happen? Did Patrick hurt you?]
[I just checked flights. I can be back tomorrow.]
…
The last message, sent half an hour ago, was from Jacob:
[I can’t reach Sister Margaret, and Patrick isn’t answering either. I’m heading to the airport now.]
A tightness gripped Margaret’s throat.
Besides Patrick, the other four boys who had followed her all those years ago were now thriving. To avoid competing with him for resources, each had chosen to build a career in a different city—Jacob had even made a life overseas.
When they left, they told her: if Patrick ever treated her poorly, they would come and take her away.
So many years had passed. She never imagined that escape route they’d offered was still being held open.
Margaret took a deep breath. “I’ve decided not to marry Patrick. I’ll go anywhere, really. I just don’t want to stay in Seabrook anymore.”
“None of you need to rush back. I still have some loose ends to tie up.”
She and Patrick had built their business together for years. Untangling their shared assets would take at least two weeks.
“I’ll let you know when I’m ready—in about two weeks.”
“Don’t worry about me for now. Just go about your lives.”
The Little Tails had always listened to Margaret. Even with obvious reluctance, they agreed.
She let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Though she had decided to leave Patrick, part of her still hoped the other four wouldn’t come to hate him for it. After all, they had all grown up together. Better to part cleanly, with no lingering bitterness.
Drowsiness washed over her again. Margaret was just about to close her eyes when the hospital room door swung open.
Patrick walked in, carrying two takeout bags.
“Margaret, how are you feeling?”
She said nothing.
She watched as he placed the bags on the bedside table, pulled out a cheaply wrapped sandwich from one, and held it to her lips.
“I went all the way to the university district for this. You used to line up for these all the time, remember?”
Margaret pressed her lips together, her gaze drifting into the middle distance.
She had never told him the truth: she didn’t actually like those sandwiches, overloaded with vegetables and stingy on meat. Back then, she was just so poor—saving every penny for Patrick’s university fees. For herself, a three-dollar sandwich was enough to get by.
She had sacrificed so much for him. Could he really be that oblivious?
A wave of sorrow washed over her. Silently, she turned her face away.
Patrick’s voice turned cold. “Margaret, don’t make this harder than it has to be. You know I had no choice.”
“Sharon’s family is struggling. Both her parents are sick. If anything happened to her, how could I face her family?”
Margaret let out a bitter, choked laugh and raised her bandaged hands. “So I’m the one who deserved this? And to be kicked out of the company on top of it?”
Patrick faltered. His eyes flicked to her gauze-wrapped hands before darting away.
“The company can’t function without a secretary. You’re injured. I had no choice but to let Sharon fill in temporarily.”
“And when I’m healed and ready to come back, are you sure you’ll give me my position back?”
His gaze grew evasive, a flash of irritation crossing his face.
“Margaret, you have plenty of savings. Do you really need to fight Sharon over a salary? Most people dream of an early retirement. I’m giving you that chance. Isn’t that a good thing?”
Margaret almost laughed out loud.
She closed her eyes, utterly exhausted. “Fine. Consider it done. If that’s all, you can go.”
In two weeks, she’d be gone anyway. Whether Patrick wanted Sharon as his executive secretary or his vice president, it would no longer be her concern.
Patrick’s mood visibly brightened. “I knew you’d be reasonable about this.”
Like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat, he produced a document. “Actually, there’s another reason I came today.”
