Verna scoffed. “Go ahead, call the police. As long as I don't admit it, you have no proof. Do you really think they'll believe you just because you say so?”
Rachel clutched her phone tightly. Verna looked at her furious face and said gently, “Pushing Zephyra was a test. Think about it—she fell into the sea, got caught in a landslide, and now she fell down the stairs while pregnant and lost a ton of blood, yet she never dies. It's obvious someone is helping her from the shadows.”
“That's because she's lucky!”
Verna laughed, exasperated. “You're wrong. Someone is trading their life for hers!”
Seeing the way Rachel was looking at her like she was insane, Verna reined in her emotions slightly.
She pushed her hair back. “Let's not fight. I just came to tell you that regardless of whether Zephyra has her memory back, this incident is only going to bring her and Steven closer.”
“When that happens, I won't be the only one to suffer—so will you. The only way out is to make Steven fall out of love with her, or to make Zephyra leave him forever.”
“That's the only way any of us will get a happy ending.”
“Go see Horace. After you see his condition, if you change your mind, feel free to contact me anytime.”
Rachel let out a cold laugh but said nothing.
She hailed a cab and went to Horace's hospital.
Horace hadn't woken up yet. Mrs. Spencer sat in the hospital room, her eyes red and swollen, waiting desperately for her son to awaken.
Rachel's heart trembled.
Mrs. Spencer looked up at her, her eyes immediately welling up again. Her voice was terribly hoarse. “Rachel, you came to see Horace. He's still not awake. Don't let this interfere with your work; you should go home.”
Rachel shook her head, her gaze softening as she looked at Horace lying on the bed with an oxygen mask on his face.
He was thin and weak, his leg in a cast, and his handsome face was covered in scrapes. He looked so battered.
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