Emily lay on the floor, sobbing, as she said, “Don’t blame Harriet, Richard! She did it because she loves you too much!”
I struggled to sit up as I told him, “She’s lying! Richard, it wasn’t me. She was the one who hurt herself!”
But he didn’t listen.
His eyes were filled with rage as he stared me down and shouted, "You already crippled one of Emily’s legs. And now this?"
“Today, you pay for what you’ve done!”
Richard bent down, grabbed a heavy stone and slammed it into my leg. I heard the sickening crack as pain exploded through my body. He then tossed the stone aside, scooped Emily into his arms and left without a single glance back.
I fainted. When I opened my eyes again, the warehouse was empty. At the time, I was drenched in sweat, barely conscious. Still, I forced myself to drag my broken leg inch by inch toward the road.
A kind stranger saw me and called an ambulance. It was how I survived. Three days later, after I was discharged, I asked my lawyer to pick me up.
After that, both of us went straight to the airport.
On the very first day the airport opened, the first plane that took off was the one flying me abroad. Back in Boston, Bryan’s birthday party was in full swing.