My body shook violently. I stumbled back, my mind reeling, then forced myself to turn away and frantically gather evidence to drag Hillary to court.
But before I could act, my brother suddenly clutched his chest, collapsing from a heart attack. I rushed him into the ambulance, only for a massive truck to crash into us with a deafening impact.
Agonizing pain tore through me as my consciousness blurred. Through the haze, I felt Tristan's arms wrapping around my bloodied body.
"Hillary didn't mean it," he whispered in my ear, his voice urgent yet ruthless. "As long as you promise not to press charges, I'll send a helicopter immediately to take you to the best hospital."
I nodded through clenched teeth. After I watched my brother taken into the operating room, I fumbled my phone with trembling hands and messaged my father with two sentences: [I forgive you. One month from now I'll bring my brother to find you.]
The phone rang almost immediately. "Meredith, you finally came to your senses. Don't worry—I'll compensate you properly from now on." He sounded relieved.
I swallowed my anger and answered calmly. "Get me the best lawyer."