The Unlucky Turn by Mark Twain 100
Leilani’s eyes snapped wide. Years of prison life had given her an almost instinctual sensitivity to danger. She reacted reflexively, rolling to the side just in time to avoid the speeding black car. “Bang!”
With a dull thud, Leilani’s phone slipped from her pocket and was ruthlessly crushed by the tire, instantly shattering into pieces.
Leilani crouched on the ground, her hair messy, her chest heaving violently.
“Oh my god! How is that guy driving?”
“Is that lady okay?”
“Call the police!”
“Is anyone hurt?”
Passersby exclaimed in shock, and many took out their phones to film the thrilling scene.
Leilani, however, stared intently at the fleeing vehicle, trying to memorize details. She caught a glimpse of a long-haired man in the driver’s seat, and the license plate seemed to end in
68?
Her gaze was sharp as a knife, but by the time she focused, the black car had disappeared around the corner.
“Miss, are you alright?” A middle-aged woman walked over tremblingly to ask. That car hadn’t been going slow. If it had hit her, the injury would have been severe.
Leilani ignored the hand offered by the woman, pushing herself up from the ground and dusting off her clothes. “I’m fine, thank you.”
Her voice was incredibly calm, as if she hadn’t just brushed past death. But she knew her back was covered in a cold sweat. This was no ordinary traffic accident. The black car seemed unintentional, but with so many people rushing to work and school around, the fact that it had targeted her so clearly proved it. This was attempted murder!
Not far away, a figure in a baseball cap hid in the crowd, eyes flashing viciously under the brim. Seeing Leilani unharmed, the person clenched their fist tight, then turned and vanished down the street.
Sensing something, Leilani turned her head sharply, but saw only a crowd and flashing phone cameras. She frowned, bending to pick up the remains of her destroyed phone,
Sirens wailed in the distance, getting closer, and soon two police cars stopped at the scene. Someone had called the cops for her.
“Miss, are you okay? Were you the one involved in the accident?” A middle-aged officer
walked over quickly, scanning Leilani and sighing in relief when he saw no obvious external injuries. “We received a report of a car accident here.”
Leilani nodded, her expression calm. “I’m fine, but the driver was clearly aiming for me.”
The officer signaled a colleague to document the scene while taking out a notebook. “Can you describe exactly what happened?”
Leilani recounted the events simply, including the car’s features and her vague impression of the driver.
The officer frowned as he wrote. “Have you offended anyone recently? Or received any threats?”
Leilani’s eyes flickered, the faces of the Sloan family flashing through her mind, but she simply shook her head. “No leads for now.”
“Could you come back to the station with us to make a statement?”
“Okay.”
Since her only option was to go with the officer, she agreed.
The process of giving a statement took longer than expected. The police asked about every detail and collected bystander videos as evidence. By the time everything was done, nearly an hour had passed.
Leilani looked at her completely destroyed phone, her brow furrowed tight.
Meanwhile, Callahan sat at the window seat they had agreed upon, his slender fingers tapping lightly on the table. The minute hand on his watch had swept past the thirty-minute mark, but “Ms. Cheney” was nowhere to be seen.
15.07
Cedella
Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.