A Widow's Poison, A Wife's Rebellion novel Chapter 738

Deep in the shadows of the overpass, a homeless man was trying to sleep. He hadn't wanted to engage with the crazy woman wailing outside, but the noise was unbearable.

"Keep it down! Go to sleep or get the hell out of here!" his gruff voice echoed off the concrete.

Brinley nearly jumped out of her skin. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She squinted into the gloom, realizing that what she had mistaken for a pile of garbage was actually a filthy, disheveled man.

Panic seized her. She scrambled backward, scrambling to her feet, and bolted out from under the bridge.

It was raining. She was dressed in thin layers, shivering violently from both the cold and the sheer terror of her situation.

Step by step, she was walking into an absolute dead end. It was a scenario she never could have fathomed during her pampered days at the estate. But now, she was out of options. A crushing wave of regret swallowed her whole.

"Faraday... Oh, God..." She sobbed his name into the cold night air.

She had been wrong. She had made a terrible mistake. She never should have listened to Felix, and she never should have followed Harriet's orders. If she had just settled down and lived a quiet life with Faraday, she would have never ended up in this living hell.

...

Back at the cramped apartment, Darleen and Xenia were forced to share the small bed.

The blanket was far too narrow. Accustomed to sprawling out on luxurious mattresses with their own heavy comforters, neither of them could get comfortable. If Xenia wasn't yanking the covers away, Darleen was subconsciously dragging them back. It was a miserable, sleepless night.

In the dead of night, Darleen's phone rang. She groggily answered it. "Hello?"

"You're a Seabrook heiress, aren't you? Wasn't that your favorite card to play?" Darleen sneered mercilessly. "What's wrong? Did your own mother toss you out? Wow, and you're her biological daughter!"

Every time Brinley had faced a minor inconvenience in the Yelchin household, she would haughtily remind everyone of her Seabrook lineage, acting as though any slight against her was a declaration of war against her family. Well, her precious family name couldn't save her now, so she was resorting to playing the victim.

But Darleen's son was dead because of her. Her apologies were worthless.

"I really am sorry. Mom, please, it was all my fault. I know you're staying at Susanna's apartment. Please, just let me crash there for a little while?"

Brinley had entirely run out of pride, reducing herself to begging.

But a grieving Darleen, who had lost her son to this woman's deceit, was never going to throw her a lifeline.