Without hesitation, Emma stomped hard on Quinn’s foot.
A sharp scream tore through the air.
Taking advantage of the moment, she yanked the door handle and hurled herself out of the car.
The violent impact sent her rolling across the rough pavement, her headgear flying off from the force of friction.
Jagged stones scraped against her skin, tearing open fresh wounds on her cheek.
Blood trickled down her forehead as she gasped for breath, her wrists burning from the tight rope digging into her skin.
Gritting her teeth, she struggled to break free.
Despite the searing pain, she forced herself onto unsteady feet and stumbled toward the city lights in the distance.
She had no idea how long she had been walking.
At some point, she managed to hail a taxi.
When she finally arrived home, barely conscious, the nanny’s horrified gasp filled the air.
"Miss Knapp! I’ll call the gentlemen right away!"
Emma’s trembling fingers shot out, gripping the nanny’s wrist.
She shook her head violently.
The memory of the boutique played in her mind, and a cold chill crawled up her spine.
She was exhausted.
Drained.
Terrified.
Without another word, she dragged her battered body to her room and disappeared into the bathroom.
Standing before the mirror, she stared at the bloodied woman reflecting back at her.
Silently, she reached for the medicine box.
As she poured saline over her wounds, a sharp sting shot through her nerves, but she barely flinched.
By the time she was done, dawn had already crept in.
The house was eerily quiet.
Mike and Jeff hadn’t come home all night.
Only three days remained before Emilly’s return.
Time was slipping away too quickly.
She leaned against the cold wall, her gaze falling on the framed photos covering it.
Snapshots of the three of them.
Smiling.
Happy.
A lie.
Slowly, Emma pushed herself up and tore the pictures down one by one.
When the last one hit the floor, she scooped them all up and tossed them into the trash.
Things that didn’t matter didn’t deserve to remain.
That night, she slept deeply.
For the first time in a long while, she let go.
The noise woke her.
As her eyes fluttered open, she found Mike and Jeff standing at the edge of her bed.
Their faces were clouded with anger.
Before she could sit up, Mike hurled his phone at her, the device landing hard on the mattress beside her.
"Take a good look at what you’ve done!" he snapped.
Emma’s gaze dropped to the screen.
A news article flashed before her.
Quinn was in the hospital.
The Payton family had issued a statement, demanding that whoever had harmed their son come forward, kneel, and beg for forgiveness.
She studied the article for a long time.
Mike’s impatience flared. Just as he was about to lash out again, Emma finally spoke.
"Okay."
His brows furrowed. "What?"
"I’ll apologize," she said simply.
Then, she pulled the blanket over herself, retreating into silence.
The room was warm, but the chill inside her felt unbearable.
A bitter smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
Her reaction unsettled them.
If she had fought back, screamed, or argued, it would have made sense.
But her quiet compliance left Mike and Jeff uneasy.
Jeff cleared his throat and spoke, his voice unusually soft.
"Didn’t you say you wanted to watch the shooting stars?"
Emma blinked.
"Let’s go tonight," he continued. "We pushed back our schedules."
She had mentioned it once. A long time ago.
It had been one of her wishes.
Something that wasn’t tied to Emilly.
For the first time, she had felt seen—like she mattered.
They had never agreed before.
But now, suddenly, they did.
She knew what it was.
A last-minute attempt to ease their guilt.
Crocodile tears.
It didn’t matter anymore.
"Only three days left," she murmured.
Jeff frowned. "What?"
"Nothing," she said, shaking her head.
Everything was ready.
That afternoon, Mike and Jeff took her to Payton estate.
For the first time since the Knapp family’s downfall, she stepped onto its grounds.
Inside, Quinn lounged on the sofa, his posture lazy yet exuding arrogance.
As Emma entered, his lips curled into a smirk.
