"You have no idea how much those words might have hurt her. Maybe... maybe it was because of those very words that pushed her to—“ Sarah couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. Mrs. Mendes jumped up in rage, jabbing a finger at Sarah as she lashed out. "Shut up! What are you trying to say? That my daughter died because of me? Nonsense! Utter nonsense!" "Calm down. I need more details." Sarah frowned slightly. She had a feeling this wasn't as simple as it seemed. Mrs. Mendes wanted to throw her out, but then she suddenly remembered the compensation she hadn't received yet. Forcibly swallowing her anger, she held herself back. "What more details do you need?" "When you came back from grocery shopping and saw your daughter fall, did you see anyone coming out of the stairwell? Someone fleeing in a panic, or running away quickly?" Mrs. Mendes's face went pale. "W-what do you mean by that?" Her whole body started to tremble. "Are you saying... my daughter didn’t comm
"He’s just a child! He doesn’t understand anything—don’t scare him!" "He’s a child, yes. He’s your son. But have you ever thought about this? Tina was your daughter. She was just a college student, not even out in the real world yet. If your son saw the bad guy, why are you stopping him from speaking? Do you know who it was?" Mrs. Mendes snapped, furious. "Know what? What nonsense are you spouting?!" Sarah unlocked her phone and placed it in front of Mrs. Mendes. "Look carefully. I’m calling the police." Her finger hovered over the emergency dial button, ready to press down. "Wait! Don’t!" Mrs. Mendes panicked and quickly reached out to stop her. Sarah lowered the phone. "Then let me talk to your son." "I…" Mrs. Mendes hesitated, seeming torn. "That day, when Mom went to buy groceries, I saw my sister following someone upstairs. That person must be a bad guy. Tina hasn’t come back yet—did the bad guy take her away?" The little boy’s voice was innocent, his words
"There’s no point in hiding anything now. Who came up with the idea of holding a banner and carrying your daughter’s photo in front of the school? And who told you to demand a million?" Sarah pressed forward, locking eyes with Mrs. Mendes. "I don’t know what you’re talking about," Mrs. Mendes said, lowering her gaze. "People like us—what else can we do but call the police? But they ruled it as a suicide. I didn’t believe it, so I went to your school to demand an explanation. As for the ten million? Forget that—I think you owe me compensation." Sarah didn’t buy a word of it. "The person who gave your son chocolate is the same one who gave you the idea, isn’t it?" Mrs. Mendes’s expression hardened. She clamped her mouth shut and refused to answer. "It doesn’t matter if you won’t talk. I can find out on my own." Sarah pulled out the chocolate Tommy had given her. "Do you even know what kind of chocolate this is?" "Luxury goods have one benefit—they can be traced. You probab
Although Mia still couldn’t fully open up, constantly keeping her guard up against the world, Sarah found she could at least communicate with her in simple ways—like asking her to draw. Patients with psychological disorders often struggle to engage in normal conversations during an episode, but they can express their emotions and needs through alternative means. One common therapeutic method is to have them draw, allowing them to convey subconscious feelings and emotions in the most direct way possible. Every psychologist learns this technique, and Sarah had excelled in this subject, earning a perfect score in her coursework. Mia hesitated for a moment before glancing at Sarah with a hint of uncertainty. Slowly, she reached for the pen on the table and began sketching on the blank sheet of paper. The most intense moment…? She struggled to recall such a moment in her life. But then—just recently—her brother had found the person he loved the most. That person was… he
Before James could finish reading, his mother entered the room, her face clouded with worry. "James, I’m really worried about Charlotte. Why is it that even though she hasn’t been sent to prison, I still can’t take care of her? If anything happens to my grandson, I won’t let them off!" she said angrily, her frustration spilling over into a fit of coughing. James remained calm. "Mom, even if she isn’t in prison, she’s still under house arrest. That means that while she may be at home, it’s no different from being in jail. You can’t just visit her whenever you want." His mother glanced at his computer screen and immediately spotted Sarah’s name displayed in bold letters. With a cold snort, she scoffed, "That wretched woman has finally revealed her true colors for everyone to see. She’s nothing but a curse! First, she ruined Lucy, then Charlotte and my grandson. And now, she’s finally killed someone. Let’s see how she gets away this time!" James’s expression darkened slightly.
After Tina’s case faded from the spotlight, a new storm erupted—Mia’s video spread like wildfire. The Reynolds’ eldest daughter had publicly defended Sarah just a day earlier, only to suffer a breakdown at the gates of Adams University. It was as if reality had delivered a brutal slap—straight across Mia’s face, and by extension, Sarah’s as well. People began questioning Sarah’s competence. While no one denied the prestige of the Decker Competition, many now speculated that Sarah was merely an academic—strong in theory but lacking real-world experience, nothing more than an armchair expert. From the beginning of the controversy until now, Sarah had yet to make any public response. Just then, Zachary’s assistant entered the office once again, this time with a fresh update. "Mr. Reynolds, this afternoon, Mr. Robinson privately met with Miss Wilson. We don’t know yet if it’s related to the contract." The Reynolds and Wilsons had always been evenly matched in the stock ma
Mrs. Mendes hesitated before continuing. "After Tina jumped, I was terrified—I didn’t know what to do except cry. Then she appeared. She said she would help me get justice. She planned everything—what to say, what to do. She was clearly helping me… Are you saying she’s the one who killed my daughter?" Sarah could see right through Mrs. Mendes’s thoughts—all she cared about was the money. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Sarah spoke again. "Mrs. Mendes, your daughter might have been killed by her. Worse, she might have been pushed off that rooftop while she was still alive. Do you still think she was helping you?" "That’s impossible!" The words pushed off the rooftop were too horrifying. She didn’t even dare to imagine it. She had never been a loving mother to Tina, but that was still her child. A living, breathing person. The thought of Tina standing on that rooftop, terrified and helpless, made her stomach twist. Even if she had yelled at Tina that day, she didn’
Toddler Tina wobbled toward her, her tiny voice asking if she could have a piece of candy. The teenage Tina was forced to accept hand-me-down clothes from distant relatives. Even when she accompanied her mother to the market, her gaze would linger longingly on the dresses in the store window. The price wasn’t high, but she never once asked for one. She had learned to be obedient. As an adult, Tina had grown into a graceful young woman, but she became quieter, more withdrawn. She buried all her thoughts deep inside. Yet, when she was alone, she would still glance at herself in the mirror, as if searching for something. All these memories had always been there—she had just chosen to ignore them. Each fragment had been locked away in the deepest corners of her mind, things she never wanted to bring to the surface. Because if she did, she would have to face the truth: she could have easily bought her daughter that candy. She could have bought her that dress. But she never did.
"Six million… Where the hell am I supposed to get six million?!"The factory’s demand had nearly scared Charlie senseless. But even faced with that staggering number, not once did it cross his mind to end it all. Guys like him—the ones who never took responsibility—were always the ones clinging to life the hardest, like their sole purpose was to drag others down with them.Suddenly, his bloodshot eyes lit up like he'd just grabbed hold of his last lifeline. He muttered to himself, voice shaky but growing in conviction, “Wait, no... there’s still one person. We’re brothers. He wouldn’t just leave me like this.”Zachary had seen this coming from a mile away—he just didn’t think it would take Charlie this long to show up.Now here he was, on his knees, groveling.Zachary leaned forward slightly, one brow raised, voice cold enough to cut glass. “Charlie. Give me one good reason I should help you.”Some people only learned when they were shoved to the edge. And with someone like Charl
After hanging up the phone, Manager Sullivan carelessly packed up a few of his things and left the factory.East Coast. Melvin sat in his office, staring at the email Mr. Lambert had just sent. The entire timeline was laid out—every detail, every suspicion, all the context. He read it twice, barely blinking.He never imagined his mother would go this far behind his back, meddling in the West Ridge factory like this.Then again, maybe he should’ve seen it coming.Three years ago, when Sarah handed him control of the Sanders Group, his mother had already started revealing her true intentions—dropping hints, making comments, all nudging him toward taking over. But there was no need to seize anything. Sarah never wanted power. From day one, she’d made it clear she had no interest in running the company. She wanted to be a psychologist. The company had been a burden she was more than ready to pass on.So what was the point? Did it really matter who held what shares?He’d fought bit
“Stop right there.” Manager Sullivan raised a hand, cutting Sarah off. “Miss Sanders, you can twist a story all you want, but you don’t get to throw around accusations like that. Damaging company property? That’s a serious charge—I won’t stand for it. I’ve worked at this factory for years, always by the book. You really think I’d sabotage the company’s equipment?”Sarah didn’t reply right away, but Mr. Lambert stepped forward, his tone sharp. “So you’re saying you had no idea this happened? That Charlie made it all up to frame you?”Manager Sullivan nodded eagerly, latching onto the narrative. “Exactly! Charlie’s got a long history in this factory. Always looking for shortcuts, always stirring up trouble. He’s hated me for years. I’ve been trying to fire him forever. It makes perfect sense that he’d want revenge. That man’s a mess—gambling, drinking, drugs—you name it. He’s up to his neck in debt. He begged me for money and I said no. So now he’s spinning lies to take me down? Please
Hearing Charlie’s threats, Manager Sullivan only laughed harder.“You really think someone like you could take me down?” he sneered. “I told you before—I’ve got people backing me. Did you really think I’d go into this without covering my own ass? Even if Sarah knows, so what? I’ll just laugh at your stupidity. You don’t even know who’s behind me, and you still dared to snitch? Don’t worry—you’ll find out soon enough. Some people aren’t to be messed with.”Charlie’s grin disappeared. “We’ll see.”Manager Sullivan gave him one last cold glance. “Here’s a piece of advice—watch your back. If you’d kept your mouth shut, you’d only have Sarah and Mr. Lambert gunning for you. But now? You’ve pissed me off too. Tell me—how do you expect to survive in West Ridge after this?”With that, he turned and strode back toward the factory, leaving Charlie standing there in the dust, rattled by what he’d just heard.Because the truth was… Charlie had no idea who Manager Sullivan’s backers were. And
“Did you tell them about me or not?!” Manager Sullivan’s voice dropped, sharp and cold.But Charlie didn’t answer the question. He just clung to him desperately. “Boss, you said you'd protect me! You promised! You have to help me! Sarah and Mr. Lambert are making me pay six million for the damages—six million! I can’t pay that! You have to save me!”“Six million?” Manager Sullivan’s face tightened. Even he had never touched that kind of money. His entire net worth wasn’t even half of that. Where the hell was he supposed to get six million for Charlie?Charlie’s eyes were pleading, frantic. His lips were dry and cracked from the panic, already bleeding slightly, and tears shimmered at the corners of his eyes. “Please, Boss. If I go to jail, it’ll be for ten years. I can’t survive that. Please…”He gripped Manager Sullivan’s arm like his life depended on it, fingers white from the force of it. But Sullivan pulled away coldly, avoiding eye contact.“I don’t have that kind of money,”
Charlie's hands were shaking uncontrollably. He couldn’t go to jail—he wouldn't go to jail.No. No, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.Manager Sullivan had promised he’d protect him. He’d said everything would be fine.But Sarah and Mr. Lambert weren’t bluffing. Everything they’d said had sounded terrifyingly real. What if Sullivan couldn’t actually help him?“I’m not going to jail,” Charlie muttered, more to himself than anyone else, cold sweat running down his back.Sarah let out a cold snort. “Oh? And who told you that? Let me guess—you wouldn’t have dared pull a stunt like this on your own. So why don’t you just tell me who put you up to it? Unless you really believe they’ve got the power to save you. Don’t forget—everything that person has came from the Sanders family.”Charlie froze. The way she said it made it clear—she already knew who was behind it.“So… if I tell you, does that mean you’ll drop the charges?” Charlie asked, eyes wide with desperation.Sarah walked
Charlie shook his head, his face pale, still refusing to admit it. “It wasn’t me! I don’t know what you’re talking about. Even if that video shows me, so what? How can you be sure I was doing anything wrong? I came in at 2 a.m. to check if the machines could still be fixed. I did it for the good of the factory!”Sarah let out a cold laugh. “Wow. That’s the best you could come up with? You really expect me to believe you were being noble at two in the morning? Don’t forget, we’ve got more than just one camera. You think we only set up one? Every step you took was recorded—and more than that, someone saw you. We’ve got video and a witness. You’re not getting out of this.”Charlie’s face twisted in disbelief. “No way! There was no one there last night—I checked! You could’ve bribed someone just to frame me!”Sarah’s expression didn’t budge. “If you’re that desperate to keep lying, feel free to tell it to the cops. I’m done listening to your nonsense. Mr. Lambert, call the police.
Holding onto the cash, Charlie couldn't stop thinking: if he brought this to the gambling den with Zachary by his side, they could easily multiply it. All he had to do tonight was take one more risk.Before long, it was past midnight—2 a.m. to be exact—when Charlie crept into the factory. Everyone was asleep by then, including the guard out front, slumped over in exhaustion.The workshop was dark and quiet. Spotting the three machines almost immediately, Charlie felt a wave of relief wash over him. He quickly got to work, removing the last screw and prying open the outer shell. With a wrench in hand, he began fiddling inside—until something felt off.He paused.A couple nights ago, he'd gone out of his way to destroy these machines. He'd been shocked when the technician said they could still be repaired, but he brushed it off. Maybe the guy was just good. Maybe tech was just that advanced now.But now he realized—these machines had never been broken.They hadn't been repaired. Th
Upon hearing this, Manager Sullivan's face changed, and he glanced at Charlie, standing among the crowd, with a severe look of malice. Charlie, for his part, was clueless about what was happening. He was sure he had sabotaged the machinery effectively, given his years of experience in the factory and his knowledge of the equipment.But why hadn't it worked this time?He looked towards the technician with a puzzled expression, but the technician's confident gaze only increased his panic.After the meeting, Manager Sullivan called Charlie into his office and immediately started berating him as soon as the door was shut. "What happened? Weren't you supposed to have completely destroyed the equipment? Why does the technician say it can still be fixed? What did you do?"Charlie was even more baffled. He reflected on how he had damaged the equipment, unable to figure out what went wrong. "Manager, I was sure I had completely wrecked it. I even checked again after damaging it to ensure it