He Buried Me But I Painted My Own Resurrection novel Chapter 119

"Are you sure she'll come? What if she doesn't fall for it?"

"Of course she'll come," Lyla scoffed, her voice saturated with mockery. "That old woman is her absolute weak spot. The second she hears the old hag is hospitalized, she'd buy it hook, line, and sinker."

Sienna pressed herself against the freezing wall, her entire body paralyzed.

"Is the old woman actually..."

"The old woman is perfectly fine," Lyla interrupted, a casual cruelty bleeding into her tone. "This is all just a trap Grant and I set up to lure that bitch here. We're going to humiliate her in front of everyone, make sure she finally understands her pathetic place."

Sienna stopped breathing.

Leaning heavily against the wall, she listened to the heavy, agonizing thud of her own heartbeat.

The heart that had nearly exploded with terror and guilt just moments ago was instantly plunged into a glacial abyss, completely devoid of warmth.

It was all fake. Eleanor was perfectly fine.

From that very first phone call, the entire thing had been a meticulously designed trap.

Sienna's fingers slowly tightened around the hem of her shirt.

She could stomach Grant insulting her, tolerate his madness, endure his paranoia, and take every ounce of toxic blame he dumped on her.

But the one thing she absolutely could not forgive was him using his grandmother's health as bait for a sick joke!

That was his own flesh and blood!

A profound, suffocating wave of disgust clawed up her throat, making her physically nauseous.

Sienna squeezed her eyes shut, forcibly burying the turbulent emotions before opening them again.

Around the corner, Lyla was still gloating. "When she gets here, I'll slap her a few times and make her beg for our forgiveness before Grant and I even let her see the old hag, hahaha."

Sienna didn't stay to listen to the rest.

Without a second thought, she turned on her heel and walked straight back to the elevators, her pace steady and unyielding.

She had zero time to entertain their twisted little games.

Little did she know, the moment Lyla caught a glimpse of Sienna's fragile silhouette retreating down the hall, she was mentally doing cartwheels of joy.

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