“Rachel, so this is how low you’ll stoop when you’re desperate—lying through your teeth.”
“Pity. I’ll admit your scientific skills are strong, but your acting skills are pitiful.”
Blood welled in my eyes as I roared:
“I’m not lying, Ethan! Mom came today to cook for me, to deliver lunch in person! When the gas leak started, she tripped, broke her leg, and now she’s lying helpless in the corner. If you don’t save her soon, it’ll be too late!”
Before Ethan could respond, Chloe covered her mouth and let out a tinkling laugh:
“Margaret Miller is New York’s richest woman, a CEO worth billions. Everyone knows she never liked you—why would she personally cook you a meal?”
“Rachel, the gas must have gone to your head. You’re completely insane.”
My vision darkened with rage. Ignoring Chloe’s taunts, I slashed my wrist with a lab syringe. The blood and pain kept me awake.
I turned my gaze back to my husband, still begging:
“Ethan, if you won’t open the door, then at least give me the gas mask! I already hit the emergency alarm—if Mom can just hold on ten more minutes with the mask, the medics will arrive.”