It dawned on me—I’d rushed out without changing out of my wedding dress. The once pristine white gown now trailed dirty on the ground, barely recognizable.
“If you want, you can change into some of my spare clothes,” the driver offered kindly.
My eyes welled up. It was comforting to know there were still people who cared. At the hospital, I urgently asked about Cody’s ward and then borrowed some cash. As I approached his room, I overheard him on the phone.
“Yeah, that set of African rubies Melisa tried on the other day? Pack it up and send it to City Center Hospital. Five million? Okay, just deduct it from my account.”
I waited until he hung up before entering, tears streaming down my face. “Cody, my mom… my foster mom is sick and the Jordan Family cut off her medical coverage out of nowhere. Could you lend me 10,000 dollars? I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”
He let out a sigh, looking utterly helpless.
“You know, Mrs. Jordan invited her over to thank her, but she went after Melisa like a crazy dog. She deserved to die.”
No daughter could bear hearing her mother being cursed like that. Anger flashed in my eyes and a sudden hit of pain shot through my lower abdomen.