Chapter 46

"I'm probably going to die," she thought. "That's okay..."

Her entire existence was meaningless anyway. If Clifford hadn't saved her all those years ago, if he had left her then like he did now, would she have found even a little bit of happiness?

Just as Latisha gave up, a beam of light cut through the leaves, piercing her vision.

Her eyelashes fluttered. She forced her head up and saw the silhouette of a person through the shrubs.

Clutching her stomach, she used every last bit of her strength to crawl out of the bushes. The figure was far away, over a hundred yards at least.

Unable to make a sound, she could only crawl, desperate to get closer.

She had to save her baby...

The light was from a flashlight, carried by a security guard on patrol. But she was too low to the ground for him to see her. The beam swept over her hiding spot and moved on. The guard kept walking.

Latisha watched him disappear. Her fingers went limp, her hand falling uselessly to her side.

The last flicker of light in her eyes went dark.

...

"Ouch!"

Yesenia yelped, shooting upright on the sofa where she'd been reclining.

"Be gentle! That really hurts!"

Clifford was holding her injured foot. The gash on her calf was deep, the wound still raw. Dried blood was caked around the edges, and the surrounding skin was a bruised, purplish-blue. It looked nasty.

He had just been applying antiseptic, but the cotton swab had poked right into the wound, and the pain nearly brought Yesenia to tears.

Clifford glanced down at the swab in his hand, his expression distant.

"Don't move," he sighed.

"I'm not moving! You're not even

paying attention while you're treating me. Who are you thinking about

now some othe

woman?" Yesenia's

tone was a mix of playful accusation

and genuine complaint.

Clifford shot her a wry look. "What other woman?"

"There are so many women dying to climb into your bed. How would know which one she retorted, rotting her eyes. "Just be careful, please. It hurts. You know how much I hate pain." '

"And whose fault is that?"

"Mine, I guess! It's just so hard to get you to have dinner with me," she grumbled.

Clifford didn't reply. He picked up the bottle of iodine and continued cleaning the wound, his movements more precise this time.

Watching his focused expression, Yesenia felt a sweet smile spread across her face.

Clifford did care about her, didn't he? At least, he cared about her more than he cared about that mute.

As he was finishing up, his phone, lying on the table, rang. It was Ziven. He ignored it.

Ziven hung up, frustrated. He was certain Clifford was awake. He was ignoring his call because he knew exactly what it was about.

“Mr. Lambert understands everything,” he thought, “he's just too cold-blooded."

Yesenia, seeing Clifford's silence, picked up her own phone and started scrolling. Suddenly, an idea struck her, and she sat up again.

“Darling, do you remember when my birthday is?"

"November twenty-fifth," Clifford answered without looking up. His tone was flat, but the fact that he knew gave Lesenta a rush of satisfaction. A man like him

vel

probably didn't remember many

birthdays.

A radiant smile bloomed on her face. "I'm glad you didn't forget. But don't be so half- hearted about it this year."

"It's done. You should get some rest.” Clifford set her foot down and stood up. "I'm leaving."

The smile vanished from Yesenia's face. She grabbed his arm in a panic. “You're leaving again?"