NovelAppZoey felt an overwhelming force slam into her, sending her tumbling down the adjacent hillside.
Inside the car, the driver hammered the steering wheel with his fist and spat out the window in frustration.
"Damn it! How did she go tumbling down? We've gotta make sure she's dead!"
"Chill, man. With a fall like that, she's gotta be toast. Let's bail before we get spotted. This place is crawling with cameras. We can't
risk getting caught over a measly hundred grand."
"Aren't we gonna check on her?"
"Forget it! Let's get out of here. Someone's coming."
They sped off, leaving the scene in haste.
Rain drizzled from the dark sky, turning the road into a sludgy mess.
When Zoey regained consciousness, the world remained shrouded in darkness, and pain racked her entire body.
Trying to roll over, she felt a sharp agony in her bones.
Her face was drenched with the icy rain, and the desolate location offered no chance of being discovered or reported.
She attempted to crawl forward, but the pain was so intense it whitened her face, like countless needles piercing her skin, causing
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇther fingers to tremble.
The ground beneath her was soaked, the dampness seeping into her body, yet she couldn't feel the cold. All she wanted was to
survive.
She had a premonition—if help didn't arrive soon, she might actually die.
Dragging her numb legs, she inched toward her bag. Miraculously, her cellphone was still inside. She breathed a sigh of relief.
Fumbling with the quick-dial, her mind was clouded, driven only by the instinct to live.
She dialed Fitch's number subconsciously, though he had long since blocked her.
Her phone kept ringing, but she seemed deaf to the sound, continuously dialing with shaking hands.
Meanwhile, Fitch was at the hospital, keeping company with Wendy.
Wendy had just been rushed in for a stomach pump. The doctors said it was poisoning, and no one else but Belinda seemed like a
suspect.
Fitch immediately ordered Belinda's capture and interrogation.
But Belinda kept insisting it was Zoey who had made her do it.
Taking a deep breath, Fitch unblocked Zoey's number.
The moment he did, her call cthrough, as if she had a camera on him.
Annoyed, Fitch wondered if she had been calling him even while blocked.
He answered the call, and without waiting for a reply, he accused her.
"Wendy has been poisoned at the gala, and your mother's behind it. She claims you put her up to it. What have you got to say for
yourself, Zoey?"
As the call connected, Zoey's mind briefly cleared, but hearing his voice, any flicker of hope slowly faded.
"Zoey?"
Fitch called out again, puzzled by her silence. What was she playing at, calling him and saying nothing?
His voice turned cold, merciless.
"I'll be getting a lawyer."
The implication was clear—if it was indeed her doing, he wouldn't let her off the hook.
Stung by his words, Zoey propped herself up, clutching the phone tightly.
But the pain was overwhelming, making even her speech seem laced with needles.
"Fitch," she managed, her voice not hoarse but incredibly weak.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmFitch remembered Zoey calling him once before, possibly drunk, and he had hung up, irritated.
Was she pulling the sstunt again?
"I'm not feeling well, could you please—"
Before she could finish, Fitch hung up.
Rain slid down Zoey's lashes, and she could no longer tell if it was rain or tears.
She managed a wry smile, sighed softly, and tried to call someone else. But at that moment, her phone died.
It turned out that was the only call she could make. If only she could turn back time, she wouldn't have called Fitch.
Because she knew, Fitch would never cto save her.
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