Hearing Ethan twist black into white chilled me further.
“I only made sure she could never do research again. Compared to what you’re doing today, I’m nothing close to as ruthless.”
His face darkened, my words stoking his fury:
“Easy for you to say! You drove Chloe to online harassment for a whole year! She fell into depression, crying herself to sleep every night!”
I sneered. Chloe had flaunted herself on Twitter—one moment bragging about her fling with New York’s wealthy heir, the next showing off as a top researcher in a national institute, basking in adoration.
How else could people have exposed her so quickly once I reported her?
Chloe collapsed against Ethan’s shoulder, sobbing pitifully. The cry of his childhood sweetheart pulled at his heart, draining his patience.
“This toy mask is my final courtesy to you. See for yourself—do you wear it, or give it to your mom? If putting on a clownish mask can amuse Chloe, then your deaths will have meaning.”
Time was running out—Margaret had already been without oxygen for several minutes.
I couldn’t hesitate anymore. I grabbed the toy mask and rushed into the chamber.
Margaret lay weakly on the floor. Her eyes lit up when she saw me. But when her gaze fell on the mask in my hand, she propped herself up and slapped me hard across the face.
“You wretch! I told you to get me a gas mask, and you bring me a toy? Are you trying to kill me? Did you hide the real one?”
My cheek swelled instantly, burning with pain. Facing her storm of accusations, I had no choice but to tell the truth:
“Ethan took the last mask!”
Her eyes narrowed in fury:
“What do you mean!? You’re too cowardly to live, so you’re blaming Ethan?”
If she wouldn’t believe me, I wouldn’t waste words. Ignoring her resistance, I strapped the mask onto her face.
It wasn’t regulation, but at least it could block some of the gas.
Exhaustion hit me like a wave. My body went limp as the poison gnawed at my consciousness. I collapsed on the ground, praying someone would pass by and find us.
Seeing my silence, Margaret thought I was guilty. She spat on me and continued her tirade:
“Rachel, you’re a curse! You killed your father, blinded your mother. I sponsored your research out of kindness, and you repay me by gathering evidence of my embezzlement to report me by email!”
“I humbled myself to bring you food so you’d delete that email, and now this happens! And you want my son to take the blame? Our Miller family’s misfortunes all start with you!”
Unlucky? I forced a bitter smile.
Years ago, when my research team was just beginning, Margaret’s company was still small. She proposed cooperation—I’d provide results, she’d provide funding.
That win-win arrangement built the Miller Group into the giant it is today.
But now, I discovered she had been embezzling billions in research funds all along!
I could endure Ethan’s cheating, and her dislike of me didn’t matter. But honesty in research—that was my bottom line.
