Chapter 489 I Want to Ask You Something
The pills scattered across the floor, and Timothy's hand just hung there, frozen in mid-air.
His eyes tracked Zachary's every move, shadows dancing in them, hiding his true feelings. "Why'd you stop taking your meds? Is it because..."
Did Zachary find out something?
Timothy hesitated, not asking directly. "Do you think the medicine tastes bad?"
Zachary was on the phone, and when he heard Timothy's question, he turned his head. His cold, stern gaze moved from Timothy's face to his feet. "My illness won't kill me if I skip my meds for a bit. But you, are you blind or just stupid? Can't you see the broken glass on the floor? Even if you can't see it, can't you feel the pain?"
He noticed the blood seeping from Timothy's foot, frowning. The carpet was getting stained.
The call connected, and Zachary turned back, his voice losing its earlier coldness. "This is Nicholas. Could you come over? Timothy's foot is injured."
He continued, "Yeah, he stepped on some glass. There's a lot of blood; it looks pretty bad."
Timothy's tense lips slowly curved into a smile, and the anger in his heart faded. "Are you worried about me?"
He tried to walk towards Zachary, but as soon as he put weight on his foot, the glass shards dug deeper into his flesh.
He cried out in pain and fell back onto the sofa.
Timothy looked at Zachary, and the darkness in his emotions faded instantly, like a cat being stroked—gentle and without any trace of aggression. "I'm sorry. It's my fault. I shouldn't have doubted you. I was just scared..."
He lowered his head, like a child who had done something wrong, feeling both aggrieved and guilty.
Zachary hung up the phone, raised his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, and after a moment, sighed. "Scared of what?"
Timothy replied, "Scared that you wouldn't want me anymore."
The first time he met Zachary was at the orphanage. That day, Zachary was dressed like a little prince, glowing, completely out of place in the rundown orphanage.
The Bailey couple had something to discuss with the director, so they sent Zachary off to play. Typically reserved, Timothy found himself secretly trailing after Zachary as he walked away. Timothy asked, "Could you adopt me?"
Even at a young age, Zachary was cold and proud. Hearing this, he didn't even turn his head and directly refused, "No."
The doctor arrived quickly. After examining Timothy's injury, he said, "Timothy, I need to remove the glass shards from your flesh, but they're quite deep. It might hurt a lot."
Timothy replied, "Okay, thank you."
The doctor first cleaned the blood and wound with hydrogen peroxide, then used tweezers to pick out the glass shards from Timothy's foot.
Timothy, who had been indifferent to stepping on the glass earlier, now instantly felt the pain. As soon as the tweezers touched the wound, he began to groan in pain.
Zachary, hearing this, felt a headache creeping in. Concerned he might act impulsively, he said amidst Timothy's groans, "I'm going to the balcony for a smoke."
After a moment's pause, he added, "He's afraid of the pain. Maybe you should consider giving him a local anesthetic."
After the show, Winona followed the others out of the TV station. "Caleb, Mr. Stokes, thanks a lot for today."Even though it didn't really matter if these people believed her appraisal results, Winona didn't want anyone questioning her professionalism. This was her passion and dream. Even if she had to step back for a bit, she wanted her record to stay spotless.
Caleb replied, "It was no big deal. We were bored and thought we'd join in the fun."
Winona knew it wasn't that simple. This was a TV show, not a public square where you could just come and go as you pleased. The audience was pre-selected and needed invitations to get in.
But with so many people at the entrance of the TV station, it wasn't the best time to dig into details. Winona said, "Caleb, Mr. Stokes, if you're free, how about we grab a late-night snack together?"
Caleb patted her shoulder. "Maybe next time. We just wrapped up your appraisal results. Even though the item was definitely fake and we have nothing to regret, if people see us getting too close, it could lead to some unflattering rumors about you. Even if we know the truth, explaining it would be a headache."
"Caleb..." Winona glanced at Mr. Stokes beside her, hesitating.
Mr. Stokes, being a shrewd guy, found an excuse to leave upon seeing her expression.
Once they were alone at the entrance, Winona spoke seriously, "Caleb, I want to ask you something..."
After getting the answer, she thanked Caleb, watched him get into his car, and then turned to leave.
Just as Winona sat in the driver's seat, she got a call from Rebecca. As soon as she answered, Rebecca's lively voice rang in, "Hey, congrats! You were on TV, and that scene was amazing. And what was up with that host? She was just picking on you to boost the show's ratings with her questions!"
She added, "I'm cheering for you like crazy right now, can you hear it?"
Winona's hand rested on the steering wheel, smiling mischievously. "Did you watch the show?"
These appraisal shows were often full of fakes. When Rebecca first started in this field, she would grumble every time she encountered one, saying they treated the audience like fools. Plus, her TV probably hadn't been switched on in years; who knew if the projector screen still even worked?
Rebecca elongated her voice, laughing awkwardly. "I didn't watch the full episode, but I saw your highlight moments. Those people needed to be put in their place. Recording a show without any bottom line, sacrificing professional ethics for ratings."
Someone had sent her a recorded video.
Winona asked not because she cared if Rebecca had really watched it. "I didn't hear you cheering for me, but I did hear the DJ music from the bar."
Rebecca excitedly said, "I'm at a nightclub. Come over quickly. I'll open the most expensive bottle of wine they have to celebrate for you, and I'll make sure the scene is grand."
Winona asked, "Do you have money now?"
Although Rebecca was a rich heiress, her monthly allowance from home was fixed and wouldn't cover the most expensive wine at a nightclub.
And her own store barely made ends meet.
She responded, "Shouldn't Zachary, your boyfriend, be the one paying for your celebration? Put it on his tab."
Rebecca had gone to the nightclub with others. As soon as she finished speaking, someone beside her asked, "Didn't Mr. Bailey go missing? Do you think the nightclub manager will let you put it on his tab?"
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