Chapter 53

Terrified, their eyes darted to the dagger in Clifford's hand, and they scrambled backward.

"W-we've never seen you before, honest. You must have the wrong guys...?"

Clifford watched them with that same eerie smile, pressing the tip of the dagger under one of the thug's chins. "Think harder."

The cold steel made the man flinch. He could feel the razor-sharp edge against his skin. He froze, desperately racking his brain. He'd done plenty of terrible things, but he couldn't imagine having crossed a man like this.

Unless... last night?

His eyes widened in realization. He looked fearfully at Clifford. "Is this... about the mute girl?"

"The mute girl?" The smile on Clifford's face turned icy.

"No, no, I mean the beautiful lady from last night... We didn't do anything..."

"You 'didn't do anything,' or you 'did something'?"

The thug stammered out an explanation. "W-we were going to, but... but I touched blood, so we stopped..."

He thought that by being honest, he might be spared. But when Clifford heard the word "touched," the smile vanished completely, replaced by a terrifying, murderous rage.

"Which hand?"

The thug swallowed hard. How could he possibly answer that?

Before he could think of a lie, an excruciating pain shot through his palm. He let out a bloodcurdling scream as the dagger pierced straight through his hand, pinning it to the ground. Blood pooled beneath it.

But Clifford wasn't finished. He slowly, deliberately, pulled the dagger out, inflicting a second wave of agony that was far worse than the first.

The thug was sobbing, snot and tears streaming down his face. “Please, I was wrong! Please spare me!"

Clifford asked again, his voice dangerously calm, "Which hand?"

"Th-th-this one. It was this one," the thug cried, holding up his mangled, bloody hand.

"Oh?"

Clifford plunged the dagger back into the same wound. “This one?"

The man's eyes rolled back in his head as he screamed, teetering on the edge of consciousness, only to be jolted awake again by the relentless pain.

Clifford released the dagger and stood up. The two men had lost control of their bladders, and the stench was unbearable. He turned to leave, and Ziven hurried to follow.

Clifford pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his fingers. "Open the cages," he said without looking back.

"Yes, sir..." Ziven wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. If he recalled correctly, Mr. Lambert had left the dagger behind. Giving them a sliver of hope was far crueler than simply killing them Contem belongs to '

They were just two lowlifes. No one would notice they were gone. And soon, there would be nothing left of them to find. Two men weren't even a decent meal for those wolves.

Latisha spent the entire afternoon at the hospital, shuffling from one line to the next, waiting for tests and then for the results.

It was almost evening when they were finally ready. The doctor looked over the

report and then turned to her. "Where is your family?"

Latisha typed on her phone: *They're not here.*

The doctor frowned.

"You want to keep this baby, correct?"

Latisha nodded.

“Can you be admitted to the hospital?"

She hesitated. If she was admitted, Clifford would find out.

Vel

Noticing her hesitation, the doctor said, "If you can't stay, then all I can do is prescribe you some medication to support the pregnancy. You'll need to come in for regular check-ups, Whether the baby makes it or nor will be up to fate."

Latisha nodded.

Yesterday, when Clifford had taken her phone, she had felt utterly hopeless. Now,

with this sliver of a chance, it felt like a mercy from heaven.

The doctor wrote her a prescription. Latisha picked up the medication and was leaving the hospital when she saw Polly.