My leg was broken in that life-or-death struggle.
Sheryl's life wasn't much easier. The brain damage from hypoxia stayed with her for the rest of her life. She developed serious cardiopulmonary problems. To prolong her life, she even spent a fortune on a professional medical team.
"Useless waste." I rolled my eyes.
I watched indifferently as Sheryl directed his men to turn my studio upside down. Alas, they were just as useless as Sheryl. They even dug out the morphine under my bed, but couldn't find any trace of me.
Sheryl glanced around, kicked over the empty medicine box and sneered. "No wonder your life has become such a mess. It turns out you've been tainted by something you shouldn't have been."
"Sharon, with your character, you think you can compete with me for the family fortune? If the Bridgerton Family's fortune had fallen into your hands back then, I would never have been able to rest in peace!"
At this, Sheryl's eyes dimmed for a moment. It was as if she was recalling a distant memory. Remembering the source of our hatred. When she stood up again, a bone-chilling chill filled her.