Chapter 455 Can You Move?
Rebecca rolled her eyes at Howard, "Get back to school right now, or I'll break your leg."
Then she turned to Winona, "Ready to go?"
She had rushed over as soon as she got Matthew's call and hadn't eaten yet.
It was only then that Howard noticed Winona was in a wheelchair. Because of his sister's overwhelming presence, he hadn't paid attention to anything else. "Winona, what happened to your foot?"
Winona replied, "I twisted it accidentally."
She looked at Anthony, "Mr. Lewis, we're leaving now."
Anthony nodded, "Since the other party set a trap, they might tamper with electronic devices. If you need to discuss anything important, do it in person."
As a lawyer, he had seen all kinds of underhanded tactics.
Winona remembered that she had just disclosed to Evander over the phone that Nicholas might be Zachary.
Rebecca had planned to cook at home because Winona had twisted her ankle and it was inconvenient to go out, but now they decided to eat out since they were already out.
Once in the car, Winona opened a manila envelope and took out the documents inside.
Timothy, twenty-two years old, his father was a shareholder of the Bailey Group. After embezzling a large sum of money, he committed suicide by jumping into the sea to avoid legal responsibility. His mother abandoned him and ran off with someone else. He was sent to an orphanage at seven, where he was often bullied due to his introverted nature. At eight, he was abused by staff and nearly died. At eight and a half, Evander took him out of the orphanage and placed him in one of his properties. At ten, he was sent abroad.
Winona frowned as she read the contents.
Sent abroad at ten?
She recalled Lydia mentioning that she almost adopted a child once. Could that child be Timothy?
Rebecca parked the car under the apartment building and pulled a suitcase from the back seat. "Someone's worried you might get into trouble alone at home, so they asked me to stay with you until you can move freely."
As Winona received Timothy's information, Nicholas got the news that Timothy had been beaten and hospitalized.
When he arrived at the hospital, Timothy was being wheeled out of the operating room by a nurse, with casts on his legs and arms, looking like a mummy.
Nicholas frowned, "What happened? How did you get beaten so badly?"
Timothy was still groggy from the anesthesia. When he saw Nicholas, his eyes reddened, and he called out pitifully, "Nicholas."
He recounted everything that had happened at the bar in detail, "I saw the guy's face."
"Can you draw it?"
Timothy shook his head, "I can describe it."
Nicholas looked at Richard, "Get a sketch artist."
Before becoming Nicholas's assistant, Richard was just a nine-to-five employee with no connections. But he was good at talking big and wasn't afraid to ask for favors, so he quickly found someone.
Based on Timothy's description, the sketch artist quickly drew the man named 'Jackson,' capturing even his expression perfectly. He handed the sketch over, "Does this look like him?"
Timothy glanced at it and confirmed, "That's him."
Nicholas looked at the drawing, frowning slightly.
Seeing his expression, Timothy asked, "Nicholas, do you know him?"
"We've dealt with him before. There was a conflict over a piece of land the Ramsey Group was developing. All the residents agreed to the compensation, but when it came time to sign and collect the money, this guy led a protest, saying the area was valuable and the relocation houses were too far. He demanded double the compensation in either space or money for each household."
Timothy knew about this. It had caused quite a stir back then. Nicholas had just taken over the struggling Ramsey Group and had to find a mediator and pay this guy off to settle the matter.
But Timothy hadn't been involved in the company's affairs, so he hadn't met the guy.
Nicholas said, "This guy has some connections. I'll ask around tomorrow."
In other words, Timothy might have taken this beating for nothing, as it had taken Nicholas a lot of effort to deal with him back then.
Timothy's eyes reddened, looking pitiful like a child complaining to his parents, "Nicholas, it hurts so much."
"If it was really him, I'll make sure you get justice. The Ramsey Group may still be a shell, but it's not to be messed with," Nicholas said coldly, his expression stern, "You didn't hit on his woman, did you? Is it because I didn't approve of you and Winona..."
"Nicholas, I don't like her. I'll never get married. I just want to stay by your side as your brother."
Nicholas sighed, "Stop talking nonsense. Focus on recovering. I'll see if I can find a caregiver."
"I don't want a caregiver. I just want you to take care of me."
Nicholas rubbed his temples, "Timothy, I have to go back to the office to work tonight."
Winona couldn't sleep. Her mind was preoccupied, and her twisted ankle throbbed painfully. She tossed and turned for hours without falling asleep.
The more she struggled to sleep, the more she wanted to, and the more frustrated she became
She reached for her phone on the nightstand, unlocked it, and started watching videos. The more she watched, the more awake she felt. By the time her eyes started to hurt, it was already past three in the morning.
She got up to go to the bathroom, planning to turn off her phone and sleep afterward.
Rebecca was sleeping soundly, so Winona didn't wake her. The distance from the bedroom to the bathroom wasn't far, and she could manage it by hopping on one leg.
Using her phone's flashlight for illumination, her slipper broke, and she fell to the floor.
Her phone flew out of her hand.
The fall was solid, but the bedroom floor was wooden, so it wasn't as painful as she had imagined. However, her ankle hit the ground, almost bringing tears to her eyes.
The noise woke Rebecca, who groggily opened her eyes, momentarily disoriented and forgetting there was a patient beside her.
Winona lay on the floor, reaching for her phone.
It was too far.
She could only touch the edge of the screen with her fingertips. After several attempts, she managed to drag it a little closer.
"Goodness," Rebecca finally realized what was happening. She scrambled out of bed, "Winona, didn't I tell you to call me if you needed anything? How did you fall?"
She reached out to help her but stopped midway, unsure if Winona had hurt herself further and afraid of causing more harm. "Can you move? Does anything else hurt?"
Winona moved a bit, "Just my ankle."
"I told you to call me," Rebecca scolded gently, helping her up and retrieving her phone. She handed it to Winona, glancing at the screen out of habit.
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