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Chapter 132
Even though they didn’t exactly agree with Eleanor pressuring them like this, the Sinclair family had serious weight in Castenea. And Anathea really had hurt Natalie. That part wasn’t up for debate.
So, if Natalie decided to press charges, the officers would go strictly by the book, just like Eleanor had instructed.
The officer got up and left the interrogation room, leaving Anathea sitting there alone.
She lowered her eyes, clinging tightly to the hem of her shirt. She could tell what they were trying to do.
They were trying to put words in her mouth. It was clear they were trying to push the entire blame onto her and make it seem as if she’d attacked Natalie intentionally.
Hence, she refused to speak. If she answered anything, she would be done for.
But it wasn’t like staying silent would get her anywhere better. She’d still hurt Natalie, and everyone was siding with the latter. Anathea had no one to speak up for her, no one to lean on. The only person she could count on was herself.
She let out a shaky breath. But honestly, she wasn’t worrying about any of this.
What was really eating her alive was Fiona.
She couldn’t tell how much time had passed in the station. She didn’t know what time it was, if the surgery was over, or whether it had gone well.
The fear of the unknown was crushing her. On top of that, the harsh questioning was draining her fast. If they brought in a psychologist next, she wasn’t sure how much more she could take. She’d fall apart completely.
Anathea bit down hard on her lower lip, her shoulders trembling.
Then, the door opened.
“Ms. Jacobson, come out for a moment.”
Anathea flinched, her nerves stretched so tight she felt as if her heart might burst. But she had no choice. She stood slowly, feet heavy, and followed the officer out.
The hallway outside was way brighter than the dim room she was just in. The bright lights blinded her, and she instinctively raised her hand to shield her eyes.
Then, a tall figure stepped in front of her, blocking the glare. She caught the faint, familiar scent of cedar,
Anathea froze.
She slowly lowered her hand and looked up to meet those deep, dark eyes.
Gregory stood against the light, looking at her pale, worn–out face and her narrow, trembling shoulders. He pressed his lips into
a thin line.
It had only been a day since he last saw her, but she looked as if she’d lost even more weight. Her eyes were red and lifeless. She looked utterly drained and exhausted, like even a strong breeze could knock her over,
Gregory stared hard at her, his expression unreadable. “Anathea, what the hell happened to you?”
How did she end up looking like this in just one day?
Anathea thought he was here to yell at her on Natalie’s behalf. Lowering her head, she said nothing as she twisted her tingers repeatedly.
Out of the corner of his eye, Gregory noticed the back of her hand to the wound. It looked painful and rough. It was evident she had
raw, scratched, and bleeding. The blood had dried and stuck been treated.
Chapter 132
He suddenly grabbed her wrist, irritated. “Talk to me!”
The people around were startled by his outburst. A few even gave Anathea a sympathetic look.
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They’d all heard the rumors. Everyone knew how close Natalie was to Gregory, and Eleanor obviously doted on her as well. Yet, Anathea had the nerve to hurt Natalie. There was no way this would end well for her.
Anathea slowly looked up at Gregory, her voice so hoarse it barely came out. “I just want to know… how my mom is.”
Gregory almost lost it. But when he met those desperate eyes, he hesitated for a second and finally muttered, “The surgery went well. She’s okay.”
Anathea blinked. For a second, she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard.
Her pale lips twitched, just enough to curve into a small, shaky smile. “Thank God. Mom’s okay,” she thought.
The tension in her chest finally snapped, all at once. And in the next moment, her body gave out.
“Anathea!”
Chapter 133
