Nelson didn't look back, though his shoulders were visibly rigid.
Juniper knew that if Nelson was dead set on sending her away, she would never have the chance to return.
She had to get out of here. Her mind was burning with panic, incapable of rational thought, consumed only by the desperate need to escape the flight.
Leo was definitely hiding something. She couldn't shake the feeling that a crucial piece of her memory was still locked away.
Several bodyguards materialized at the door, blocking her path before firmly shutting it in her face.
Juniper could only force her trembling body up and drag a chair over to the window.
She was on the second floor. It was a steep drop. In her current physical state, jumping would almost certainly shatter her legs.
But she didn't care. With reckless desperation, she launched herself out the window, crashing violently into the low flowerbed below.
It was pitch black outside. This had to be the suburbs. A sudden spark of recognition hit her—she had been in this area before. The woman who had saved her last time... her house seemed to be nearby.
Drawing on a strength she didn't know she had, Juniper began dragging herself toward that faint, fragmented memory.
When her legs finally gave out, terror that Nelson's men would find her drove her to crawl, inch by agonizing inch, tearing her fingertips until they bled.
The familiar scent of blooming lotuses hit the air. She pounded heavily on the heavy wooden door. The moment it cracked open, she collapsed entirely.
Jasmine Lawrence hated trouble, but the gruesome trail of blood stretching behind Juniper gave her pause. She stood frozen for a few seconds before frowning deeply and dragging the unconscious woman inside.
The last time she had saved Juniper, she knew this woman was deeply entangled with Nelson. Now she was pulling stunts like this? What the hell was going on?
Baffled and inherently disinterested in drama, Jasmine pushed the questions aside and assessed Juniper's injuries.
Her leg was broken, her hands were shredded with micro-lacerations, and a thick branch was lodged deep into her calf, the primary source of the heavy bleeding.
Jasmine sterilized the wounds efficiently and, after a moment's hesitation, began stitching her up.
She was no surgeon, and the stitches were aggressively rough, but she managed to close the gashes and clean the blood.
After finishing, she stared at Juniper's face, her brow knotting tighter.

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