Chapter 51 Fingers Wrapped Around His Waist
Raymond stopped for a sec, his face tightening up.
His eyes flashed with some deep emotion, and then dead silence.
He spun around, seeing Margaret with her eyes shut tight, brows all scrunched up. Her pretty lips were moving, whispering something.
Back before Marlon lost his marbles, if she had sweetly said, "Raymond, don't go," he might've fooled himself.
But now, The Hughes Group was all his.
Marlon had offed his parents. Their whole relationship was messed up from the start.
Raymond, looking all conflicted, gently pried her fingers off his hand one by one.
He turned and walked out without a second thought.
The suite door closed softly behind him. Raymond left, not even glancing back.
Margaret frowned, shaking her head, crying and whispering, "I don't have much time left. I have late-stage liver cancer, Raymond."
Her eyes snapped open, and the room was pitch black.
She flicked on the wall lamp, and her pillow was soaked with tears.
She had just dreamed she was swinging in the Hughes family's backyard, going super high.
Then the rope snapped.
She was thrown into the air, about to crash and shatter.
No matter how much she screamed, begged, or cried, Raymond never looked back.
The Raymond who had just held her waist, smiled gently, and promised to stay by her side no matter what, had turned and walked away.
She hit the ground hard, dying with her eyes wide open, staring at Raymond's tall, strong back.
Blood trickled down her forehead, blurring her small face.
Margaret wiped away her tears.
She got out of bed and walked from the bedroom to the living room.
She turned on the wall lamp.
The sofa was empty.
The medicine box was still in the trash. She smirked; he hadn't taken the meds she bought.
He'd rather suffer than take the meds she got for him.
Her thin body walked to the entrance.
The pair of black leather shoes on the shoe cabinet was gone too.
Everything felt like a shattered dream, like he was never there.
Raymond was gone, in both the dream and reality, leaving her behind without a second thought.
Margaret slid down the wall slowly. She covered her face, and when the tears stopped, her eyes felt dry, and her heart felt empty, like it had been hollowed out.
Raymond took the private jet and rushed to Silverbrook overnight.
Dressed in a dark suit, he leaned against the window, his well-defined fingers touching his chin, lost in thought.
Margaret's words echoed in his mind. "Sarah drugged you! She told me herself!"
"Yes, I drugged you! I was jealous of Sarah. I did everything! Raymond, are you happy now?"
Then, Margaret lay on the bed, holding his hand, murmuring, "Raymond, don't go."
The attendant handed Raymond a glass of red wine.
Raymond took the glass and drank deeply.
Was it really not Margaret who drugged him?
From what he knew of Margaret, she was always high and mighty, straightforward, not the type to play dirty.
Sarah had always wanted to be with him and had the motive to drug him.
Raymond took out his phone, found Sarah's WhatsApp, and typed a message: [Did you drug me?]
His eyelid twitched, and Sarah's considerate smile flashed in his mind. "Raymond, Margaret is in trouble. You should go see her. You haven't divorced yet; you are still her husband. You should be by her side at this time."
If Sarah had given the medicine, why would she ask him to see Margaret? Wasn't she helping Margaret?
Sarah had been kind to him. When he was in the orphanage, she had sponsored him with a million dollars, bought him new clothes, told him jokes, and provided psychological counseling.
Sarah had fallen for him at first sight and had given so much.
She had put up with so much.
Later, when he was with Margaret, dating and getting hitched, Sarah never complained, just foolishly and persistently waiting for him.
He shouldn't doubt a good woman like Sarah.
Raymond deleted the message he was typing and tiredly turned off his phone.
He picked up the wine glass and downed the red wine.
Raymond thought, 'My concern for Margaret is just a habit, just muscle memory. Once tormenting her becomes a new habit, everything will be natural.'
He had just gotten off the plane.
Alvin, looking like he'd been waiting forever, walked over respectfully and spoke softly to Raymond, "Mr. Howard, there's a lead on what you asked me to investigate."
Raymond walked away briskly, face blank, and asked in a deep voice, "Who did it?"
Alvin replied, "The media that swarmed Mrs. Howard that night were tipped off by Ms. Martinez."
Margaret didn't sleep a wink that night.
Her sleep was getting worse.
She watched the snow all night.
She watched the distant green mountains put on their silver attire.
She watched the tall buildings get buried under a white blanket.
She watched the pitch-black sky gradually brighten.
The blizzard finally stopped the next morning.
Margaret waited until nine o'clock to call Alvin. Alvin told her which hospital Ashley was in, the one they had found yesterday.
The hospital was just a five-minute walk from where she was staying.
Alvin told her to be careful and not to stay too long.
She thanked him, then changed clothes, packed her things into her backpack, and checked out of the hotel room. She planned to go to the hospital and then head straight to the airport.
As soon as she arrived at the hospital, she saw a hearse parked at the entrance.
A stretcher covered with a white cloth, with an old man and woman crying and holding onto Emily.
As the stretcher was about to be lifted into the hearse, Emily broke free from the old woman's hand, lay on the stretcher, and wailed, "Mom, Mom, didn't you say you'd be back in a few days? Open your eyes, look at me! Look at me!
"Mom, I'll be good from now on. I'll do my homework well, practice my dance well, and won't be picky about food. Please don't sleep, okay? I'm scared, I'm really scared. Mom, the teacher asked us to draw a happy family. I drew Mom, Grandpa, Grandma, and me. The four of us were playing at the amusement park. The teacher praised my drawing and gave me a little red flower. It was so beautiful, so big and red. I'm the only one in the class who got a little red flower."
Emily, wearing a pink cotton jacket, with braids and a pretty butterfly clip in her hair, kept pushing the stretcher with Ashley on it, pleading continuously.
The old woman tried to pull Emily away, but Emily clung to the stretcher's corpse, refusing to let go. "I want Mom, I want Mom. Give me back my Mom. Mom, open your eyes, okay? I want to show you my little red flower."
Everyone at the scene was in tears, their noses stinging.
In the end, the old woman forcibly pulled Emily away and held her in her arms. "Let your mom go peacefully. If you really care for her, you shouldn't have come into this world."
The stretcher was lifted into the car, and the old woman, holding Emily, also got into another car.
There was a black-and-white photo in the car.
Margaret was stunned.
The photo looked familiar.
Wasn't it Ashley, the one she had given a red envelope to at the hospital?
So the woman who invited her to the birthday party was Ashley!
But why did Ashley want to kill her?
They had no beef.
And why did Ashley commit suicide? Margaret was full of questions.
Daniel Taylor's voice suddenly sounded. "Ms. Hughes, we meet again."
His voice was light and gentle, yet it carried a sense of pressure and intimidation.
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