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Lost Me, Gained Regret (Jane and Bryant Ferguson) novel Chapter 166

Bryant looked helpless, his voice gentle as he tried to explain, “Margaret lost a child, too. Even if you take this to court, it won't bring you the closure you want.”

“Oh…” I just nodded, feeling utterly drained. “So, my child's death is in vain, then?”

He seemed worried I might get upset, quickly trying to soothe me, “That's not it. There are still ways…”

“What ways?” I forced a weak smile, “Send her abroad, to any country I choose?”

“That’s possible.” He sighed in relief, nodding without hesitation.

I looked at his flawless features and chuckled. “Then, let’s send Margaret to someplace challenging, like maybe a remote town. Oh, and she gets by without financial help from you.”

Bryant hesitated. “Jane…”

“Is that a problem?” I saw the disbelief flash across his handsome face, but I insisted. I wanted Margaret to pay, even if just a little.

He frowned. “It’s chaotic there. Since a kid, Margaret has never...”

He was cut off as his phone rang from his pocket. Checking the caller ID, it was Kevin.

I sneered, “Go ahead. It might be too late. Maybe you need to identify the body.”

“Hello,” Bryant answered, face set in a hard line.

Kevin’s voice was faint but audible. “Mr. Ferguson, we need you here. Ms. Ferguson is refusing any treatment and continues to bleed. She wants you here.”

“Tell her to give up treatment if she wants to die!” Bryant’s voice was icy as he hung up.

I had truly considered it. But, years of rationale had overshadowed the darkness within.

Bryant composed himself, preoccupied with the thought of the person lying in the hospital, “I’ll think about it!”

Then, without another glance my way, he left. His urgency was palpable.

The door slammed shut behind him, and his figure vanished from my sight. I watched the empty foyer, lips curled in a knowing smirk, already guessing his decision. He couldn’t. How could he bear to do that over this?

I lay on the couch, lost in thought, the malicious words Margaret had hurled at me fueling my hatred. It was astonishing how vile a person could be.

Later, my phone rang, startling me. It was Gary calling, and I hastily answered. “Gary, is it about the fingerprint analysis?”

“Yes.” Gary confirmed, and I immediately pressed, “And? Were Margaret’s prints on it?”

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