"Oh, my God! So, it was you who stole my ring. But how did it end up in Jane's purse?" Florence directed her questions at the waiter, attempting to shift the blame entirely onto him.
The waiter confessed, "I planned to sell the ring after my shift. But when you started looking for it and even had security searching everywhere, I got scared of being caught. So, I slipped the ring into her purse when no one was looking. Please forgive me; I didn't mean to do it. My mother is critically ill and needs surgery. I have no money, so I was forced to steal."
Jane, still wary of Florence's involvement, questioned the waiter, "Tell me, who put you up to this?"
The waiter, with trembling fear, replied, "No one. I did it on my own accord." However, his gaze kept darting back to Florence, fueling Jane's suspicion.
Realizing that Jane could expose the whole scheme, Florence quickly intervened, "You know what? I don't want to pursue this further. I'll let you off the hook because you did it for your mother."
The waiter expressed his gratitude and apologized to Florence.
Jane, unimpressed with the sudden turn of events, challenged, "You don't want to pursue it? That wasn't what you said when I was accused of stealing the ring. Why the sudden change of heart?"
Florence hesitated, aware of the humiliation she would face if she apologized to Jane. Eventually, she muttered a reluctant, "I'm sorry, Jane. I shouldn't have accused you wrongly."
But Jane, determined to see Florence make a genuine apology, played along, "What did you say? I didn't hear you."
Florence, grinding her teeth, repeated her apology, "I'm sorry!"
Old Doyle, not one to let the situation fester, also offered an apology. "I'm sorry for what happened, Jane. Florence isn't at fault. It was just a big misunderstanding. Don't take it to heart, okay?"
With a polite smile, Jane responded, "It's fine. I just hope that next time such a thing happens, you'll give the accused a fair chance to prove their innocence. False accusations can be very destructive."
Upon hearing Jane's words, Old Doyle felt deeply embarrassed, his smile feigned. "Noted. Anyway, are your hands okay? How about I ask someone to take you to the hospital?"
Jane declined his offer, her energy sapped by the ordeal. She soon left the scene, but as she waited by the roadside for a taxi, the weather took a turn for the worse.
Raindrops began to fall as lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. With no umbrella and no taxis in sight, Jane was about to face a drenching.
Suddenly, a black Bentley pulled up beside her, and Patrick stepped out.
"Get in," he said simply.
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