Zander finally answered the call.
It was Renata Whitlock, crying frantically into the phone. "Zander, Romy is hurt! She accidentally fell down the stairs and cut her head open. We're at the hospital right now."
Hearing that Romy was injured.
Zander's face instantly dropped. "Pull over!"
"Which hospital are you at? Send me the address!"
As if completely forgetting that his actual wife was sitting right next to him, he hung up the phone and looked at her with a face full of panic and worry. "Queenie, Romy is hurt and in the hospital. I need to get over there right now. Just grab a cab home yourself. It's late anyway, you probably don't want to ride with me."
Does this child have anything to do with you?
Queenie wanted to ask mockingly.
But she decided to let it go.
In twenty-seven days, they would be complete strangers anyway.
What was the point of arguing with him now?
She turned away, pushed the car door open, and stepped out.
The car didn't pause for even a second, let alone offer a word of concern or care.
It simply sped away from her, tearing down the road in a frantic rush.
Queenie was left completely abandoned on the empty street.
Even though her heart was already dead to him, in that moment, she still felt a dull, suffocating ache.
He knew she didn't have her phone.
He knew a storm was about to break.
Yet the moment he heard his mistress's child had an accident, he dumped her without a shred of hesitation.
Completely disregarding whether she might be in danger, wearing nothing but a thin evening gown on a dark, windy night.
Heh.
This was the man she had fought so hard to marry?
Freezing raindrops began to fall, but Queenie felt nothing, walking forward in total numbness.
A downpour was fine.
It might wash away whatever delusion she had been under back then.
A stretched Rolls-Royce sped past her.
Miles saw her, and Stanley, sitting in the back, saw her too.


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