The Unlucky Turn by Mark Twain 307
Unfortunately, many of the people present today were partners and old friends of both the Sloan and Sherwood families. Fitch couldn’t afford to burn bridges, so he had to step in and cover for Tamara.
“Enough! Today is Milford’s wedding, not a place for you to make a scene!”
“We’re making a scene?” Leilani let out a mocking laugh. “I haven’t called the cops yet. I’m already doing you a huge favor!”
Fitch’s face turned iron-gray. He wanted to say more, but Yvonne suddenly stepped forward, her voice firm. “Dad! How long are you going to keep your head in the sand?”
Her eyes were red as she choked back tears. “Leilani took the blame for four years, yet you still want to protect the real culprit? Can you look me in the eye? Can you look Leilani in the eye?”
Fitch was rendered speechless by his daughter’s interrogation, his face flushing and paling in turns.
The guests’ gazes stabbed toward them like knives, and the murmurs grew louder.
“What is wrong with Mr. Sherwood? His daughter laid it out clearly, yet he’s still protecting that daughter-in-law of his?”
“Sacrificing a biological daughter for an adopted one! The Sloans aren’t any better!”
“They still dare to go through with the marriage? Aren’t the Sherwoods afraid of getting dragged down?”
Clive and his brothers stood to the side, listening to the blunt criticism around them. Their expressions were terrible, but they couldn’t offer a single word of defense.
Leilani watched their pathetic state, the corners of her lips curling up slightly, though her eyes remained icy.
Seeing the situation collapse, Tamara finally couldn’t take it anymore. Her face went sheet-white. She suddenly clutched her chest, rolled her eyes back, and slumped softly to the floor.
“Tamara!” Zadie immediately rushed forward to support her, looking frantic. “Hurry! Get a doctor!”
The scene dissolved into chaos. Paramedics rushed in, loaded the unconscious Tamara onto a stretcher, and whisked her away. The Sherwood family followed the medical team out.
Once outside, away from everyone’s prying eyes, Gloria stopped in her tracks, her face livid. She grabbed Fitch’s arm and hissed in a low, angry voice. “This is the good wife you picked for our son? She’s the murderer who almost killed our daughter!”
Gloria had lived in high society for years; she had seen every trick in the book. Tamara was clearly faking that faint. She could tell.
Previously, she had harbored some doubts about the facts. But with Tamara’s convenient collapse, she was now almost one hundred percent certain about who pushed her daughter down the stairs all those years ago…
It was Tamara!
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And if a fact was so obvious that even she could see it, how could Fitch not?
Fitch’s eyes were dark. Seeing Gloria on the verge of a breakdown, he lowered his voice. “Calm down! Now is not the time to make a scene! The event is over. I’ll explain it to you when we get back, alright?”
Gloria’s eyes were red with fury. “How do you expect me to be calm? Yvonne was almost killed by her! And you still want Milford to marry that vicious woman?”
Fitch had his reasons but couldn’t voice them, and he wasn’t getting any understanding. Thinking about the mess he had to clean up later, he grew impatient. “I have my plans. Just bear with it for three months. After three months, we won’t need to care about the Sloan family anymore. Then I’ll have Milford divorce her.”
Gloria paused. “What do you mean?”
Fitch didn’t explain. he simply ordered, “Just do as I say!”
Gloria gritted her teeth, finally shaking off his hand and turning to check on Tamara’s situation.
On the other side, although Milford had followed the paramedics out, he didn’t get in the ambulance once Tamara was loaded in. He looked at his father, his face pale with suppressed rage.
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