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Chapter 87
Chapter 87
Arthur and Belinda were pacing nervously outside the emergency room. When they saw William approaching with a bandage wrapped around his head, Arthur couldn’t help but ask in surprise, “Mr. Connor, what happened to your hea
William paused briefly before replying nonchalantly, “Just a little accident. How’s Harry doing?”
The image of Harry coughing up blood flashed through Arthur’s mind, and his expression turned cold. Without thinking, he snapped, “It’s all Camila’s fault. I don’t know what she said to Harry, but he ended up spitting blood in agony.
“That woman just can’t stand to see our family doing well. Even though she’s no longer part of the family, she’s still scheming against us behind the scenes. It’s absolutely despicable.”
Arthur’s face twisted with fury, as if venting his anger at Camila could somehow absolve him of guilt.
Belinda nodded in agreement, her tone filled with sorrow and frustration. “Camila’s always been a thorn in our side, bringing nothing but trouble to this family.
“And now, she’s gone so far as to harm Harry. How heartless she is. We treated her like family, only for her to trample on our kindness like it meant nothing. What a tragedy.” Belinda sighed, shaking her head.
William stood silently, his expression unreadable. His gaze held a trace of contemplation, as if he were weighing the truth behind Arthur and Belinda’s accusations.
Whether he believed them or not was unclear. He simply stood there, calm and detached, his eyes slightly lowered in quiet thought.
A sharp, mocking laugh suddenly broke the silence, the raspy sound jarring in the quiet hallway.
Arthur, Belinda, and William turned their heads simultaneously, only to see a caregiver pushing Emily in a wheelchair toward them.
The moment Arthur and Belinda saw Emily, their earlier arrogance while berating Camila vanished, replaced by sheer terror and panic.
Arthur’s face turned ashen, sweat dripping down his forehead in large beads. Belinda, on the other hand, looked as though an invisible hand had gripped her heart tightly; she instinctively leaned backward, her eyes wide with fear.
No one knew the truth of what happened back then better than the two of them. Arthur had seen Agnes pushing Emily down the stairs with his own eyes.
Belinda, though she hadn’t witnessed the fall, had coldly ignored Emily’s desperate cries for help. Instead, she had pointed at the stunned Camila and accused, “Camila, how could you do something so cruel to Mr. Connor’s sister?”
Her accusation set the stage for Agnes and Arthur to frame Camila for attempted murder. Later, Belinda had even gone so far as to delete the only surveillance footage that could have proven Camila’s innocence.
With such a heavy burden of guilt, it was no wonder the sight of Emily left them utterly shaken.
But Arthur was no stranger to high–stakes situations. After years of navigating ruthless power plays and betrayals in the business world, he had learned to stay calm under pressure.
Within moments, he forced himself to hide his panic. Yet, the fear gnawing at his chest was hard to fully conceal. His eyes betrayed a flicker of unease beneath his calm facade.
Belinda, however, was different. Ever since marrying Arthur, she had embraced the role of a pampered wife. Now, seeing Emily awake, she froze in terror. Her voice trembled as she stammered, “Wh–what are you going to do?”
Emily’s smile faded, leaving her face expressionless. After five years as a vegetative patient confined to bed, her complexion
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Chapter 87
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was ghostly pale. Her sunken cheeks made her eyes look unnaturally large and haunting, sending shivers down anyone’s spine.
The moment William saw her, he rushed over, his face filled with concern. “Emily, why are you out here? You’re still recovering–you need to rest.”
Emily’s icy gaze fixed on William, sharp and unyielding.
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“Emily, what’s wrong?” William’s voice carried a hint of unease. He tried to decipher her emotions, but her face was blank, like a lifeless mask, giving nothing away.
Despite being awake for less than a week and still frail, Emily had spent every moment practicing how to speak- determined to clear Camila’s name and expose Agnes as the true culprit.
What stung her the most was the irony of it all. In these past few days, her brother, William, hadn’t once asked her about the person responsible for turning her into a vegetative state.
If he had just asked even once, she could’ve blinked or nodded to tell him the truth and ask him to avenge her. But he didn’t,
not even once.
The brother who once cherished her like a precious gem had become a stranger, defending the very person who had hurt her. His actions were repulsive, and her heart felt shattered, each piece bleeding with pain.
Emily’s lips curled into a sinister smile. Mustering every ounce of her strength, she forced out one word. “Karma.”
Her voice, faint and raspy, echoed through the silent hallway like a blade slicing through the air, cutting straight into the hearts of everyone present. Then, she began to laugh–a sharp, unhinged cackle that sent shivers down their spines.
William’s head injury was retribution. Harry coughing up blood was retribution. Owen’s broken leg was retribution. Emily believed that one always reaped what one sowed.
She was convinced that anyone who hurt Camila would pay. And this was just the start. Her grin widened, eyes gleaming with a twisted mix of madness and satisfaction.
William’s face darkened instantly. Rage and frustration surged within him, but she was his sister–he couldn’t lash out at her. Instead, he barked at the nurse, “Get her out of here! She’s too weak for this mess.”
The nurse hurried to obey, quickly pushing the wheelchair away.
Emily slumped weakly against the wheelchair, her body drained of strength. Yet her eyes never left William, burning with such intense loathing and hatred that it seemed almost palpable, like arrows aimed directly at him.
She had so much she wanted to say, so many cruel truths to hurl at him, but her voice failed her. All she could do was mutter “Karma” like a broken record, her hatred spilling out with every word.
William felt like his head was about to explode. Everything he’d done to Camila, all the sacrifices he’d made, had only earned him Emily’s resentment. He couldn’t fathom why it became like this.
He stood frozen, watching as Emily’s figure disappeared down the hallway. Yet the suffocating aura of her hatred lingered in the air, wrapping around him like an invisible chain he couldn’t break free from.
After some time, the emergency room door slowly opened. Michael stepped out, looking exhausted as he removed his mask. “Harry has a stomach perforation. He’s out of immediate danger for now, but he’ll need to stay in the hospital for observation.”
Arthur and Belinda finally let out a sigh of relief.
But almost immediately, Belinda started crying. “This is all Camila’s fault. If it weren’t for her, Harry wouldn’t be suffering
like this.”
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Chapter 87
Michael couldn’t hold back anymore and said coldly, “Stop fooling yourselves, Camila is the one who was hurt. Harry became like this because of his own guilt and self–blame.
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“If you truly care about Harry, maybe it’s time to reflect on how you’ve treated Camila all these years Without waiting for their shocked reactions, he turned back into the emergency room and wheeled Harry out.
Meanwhile, Owen was also wheeled out of another emergency room, his entire lower leg wrapped in thick bandages.
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