Facade of Love (Yvette Scott and Idris Young) novel Chapter 416

Inch left the rest unsaid.

I was not in the mood to hear it anyway. It all sounded like a bunch of nonsense to me. After all, was it not Lucas who put me through all this? What, was he going to feel sorry for me now?

The guy who had gone to check on the motionless figure finally looked our way. Ignoring Inch, I quickly asked, "What's the verdict?"

The guy shot a look at Inch, who was biting his lip, and asked the same thing I did. Then the guy finally spoke up, "His insides are messed up beyond repair. He will not die right this second, but he is not going to last long."

Inch gave a small nod and turned to me, repeating his offer, "Ms. Scott, let's get you fixed up."

It was clear he did not plan on lifting a finger for the old man.

That did not sit right with me. My voice came out raspy as I frowned. "Get someone to help him out."

Inch's face tightened, and he said with a furrowed brow, "He's a goner. The boss won't let me save him, and he didn't plan on anyone else doing it either."

"So, he is a murderer or an arsonist? What made you treat him like this? Just an old man, and you are going to stand there and watch him die?" I was getting heated, but I was banking on the bit of kindness Lucas had shown me. I knew getting angry might make Inch cave.

It did indeed. He scrunched up his face and gave an order, "Get a doctor to look at him."

The guy nodded and took off.

With that, I felt a weight lift off my chest.

The one who endures such agony here, being tormented as if they were on the brink of death and back, is definitely not a villain. They are either someone who refuses to bend to Lucas's will or someone brave enough to try and take down this wicked operation. If they were of no use to Lucas, they would have been history by now.

Therefore, this person was not evil, and there was no way I could just watch them suffer and not lift a finger to help.

"Ms. Scott, let's get you fixed up," Inch said, already guiding me out of the brick house.

Since the old man had promised to find someone to treat me, I did not make a fuss. Inch and I stepped outside to a world blanketed in poppies, a never-ending crimson tide, with workers scattered throughout, tending to the soon-to-be-harvested crop.

These deceptive flowers would unleash their poison far beyond the borders when they were ready, threatening the whole world.