“Right!”
After we separated, I went straight to the Glenwood residential area. It had been a rough day. I did not have the energy to go all the way to the villa at Peakville Estate.
There was no one there waiting for me. The emptiness would be unbearable if I stayed there alone.
When I got back, I received another call from Anthony’s phone. This time, I answered it. “What’s up?” I said.
“Sienna, where are you?” Is that Joe?
He startled me. I asked, “What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”
“Sienna, can you come to Joy Luck Boutique? Anthony needs a pickup. He’s had one pint too many. Jared and I can’t do anything to stop him. Can you come over and take him home?”
It was rather noisy on Joe’s side. From what I could hear, they must be at a bar.
I pressed my lips and, over the phone, turned down the man’s request. “You can wait for him to blackout, then bring him back. I’m not at home right now. I can’t go there!”
“No, Sienna, you don’t get it. You don’t know how much Anthony can drink. If he’s not drunk, he can drink all the way until the sun rises. He’s causing harm to himself, but nothing Jared and I say can deter him. If anything happens to him because of this, we can’t bear the responsibility!”
Joe described Anthony’s situation so vividly. I could feel the anxiety manifested in his tone.
I stood on the balcony, allowing the wind to blow softly against my face. Irritated, I spoke on the phone, “If he can’t bother to take care of himself, then let him drink to death!”
“Sienna…”
“Sienna, are you a woman at all?” Apparently, Joe’s phone was snatched away by none other than Anthony. He spoke to me in a strong nasal voice, obviously drunk.
“What’s that got to do with anything? Anthony, you go drinking at this hour and now you’re throwing tantrums at me? How old do you think you are? Three?” The other side of the line might have been put on speaker because Joe seemed to fly off the handle once I finished my rant.
He called out Anthony in a drawl, obviously in a teasing tone.
But Anthony probably shot him back an eerie look, thus the other end of the phone went quiet again.
I was really not in the mood to be dragged into this sort of nonsense, so I said, as casually as I could, “Anthony if you’re doing fine, don’t call me! I’m hanging up!”
Before he could think of a comeback, I hung up right away and turned off the phone for good measure.
That night, I could not sleep well, as per usual. I kept having nightmares. I finally managed to get some sleep when dawn broke, and then Stacey called.
She could hear the exhaustion in my raspy voice. She asked, “Ms. Stanhope, you didn’t sleep well, did you?”
I affirmed her query, and then said, “Give me the address. I’ll be there soon!”
A throbbing headache assailed me. I got up and sat on the side of the bed for several moments before regaining my senses.
After listening to the sound of my voice, Stacey paused and said, “Let’s do it this way! I’ll come to pick you up in a while, so you can catch a little bit more sleep. I’ll even bring you breakfast along the way!”
I wanted to reject her but she was faster. “Open the door for me later, okay? I’m hanging up. See you!”
And that was what she did.
Still in a daze, I checked my phone. Other than the bunch of missed calls from Anthony last night, there were no other messages or phone calls from anyone else.
When Stacey arrived, I was not in bed anymore but my head still hurt. It subsided after I swallowed some pills.
She brought breakfast and, upon seeing the dark circles under my eyes, said, “How about you take a rest for the day?”
I shook my head. “The Stanhope family is throwing a banquet on Monday. John’s arranged a fitting session for me but I kept ditching him. After we sort this out, I still have to get back to K City!”
She went quiet for a bit, her eyes darkened as she muttered a confusing choice of words, “I’m just afraid that… things won’t go too well.”
And then she turned to me. “Come on, eat up!”
I nodded, my head still pounding terribly.
After leaving Glenwood Apartments, I experienced discomfort straight away. It was like being hounded by a daunting aura, trapping me in an anxious state, on top of that pulsating headache. My mood was at an all-time low.
I realized she was driving towards the suburbs. That raised some questions. “Why are we going to the suburbs?”
She pressed her lips before replying, “I’m taking you to someone you’d want to meet!”
Someone I’d want to meet?
I ran a lap in my head but nothing came up. I could not think of anyone I would want to meet who stayed in the suburbs.
Turning to her, I prompted, “Who, exactly?”
She did not answer. It was another half-hour drive before we came to a stop in the parking lot of a cemetery.
I had been to this cemetery many times in the past. Grandma and George were buried here, so I was quite familiar with this place.
She got down from the car, bought a bouquet of chrysanthemums from the entrance, and handed it to me. “Take this!”
Then, she dragged me into the cemetery.
My mind was still buzzing, not quite getting why she had brought me here, of all places. “Is it one of your friends, or someone in your family? After we pay our respects, where are we going next?”
She was walking in front of me. In a low voice, she said, “Probably Mr. Harrison, but they should be here today.”
“What for?” She led me a little more ways into the cemetery before stopping in front of a tombstone in the back row.
I froze as my gaze fell on the tombstone. My thoughts came to an abrupt stop as an epiphany struck. The chrysanthemums in my hand fell to the ground.
I stared at the black-and-white photo and epitaph on the tombstone in disbelief.
I shot a glance at Stacey, suppressing the pain and shock growing in my heart, my voice trembling as I exclaimed, “Is this a prank?”
She pursed her lips and, when she spoke, her words bring no mercy, “Do you think this is a prank?”
I looked at the tombstone again and examined the black-and-white photo. Here laid the one person I was most familiar with, the closest friend I had ever had!
I could clearly see that she was buried on September 28. It was around the time of my accident. How could she…
I shook my head, still unwilling to accept the matter of her death. Angrily, I confronted Stacey. “I don’t understand why you have to do this to me. But I’m quite certain I haven’t done you wrong in any way. Don’t you think this is too much, even for you?”
She raised an eyebrow and said calmly, “I only found out recently that Macy died during childbirth. She was brought to K City on the day of your incident. She was drugged and placed in Nick’s house to draw you out of the villa so as to kidnap you. After she found out that she caused your miscarriage, Macy became overwhelmed and had a premature birth at only seven months that ended in her death.”
I collapsed on the floor in front of the photo on the headstone. My eyes hurt and I felt like a dagger had pierced through my chest.
Jackson had been avoiding me and stayed in Jadeborough all this time because he didn’t want to see me. For so long, I assumed that Macy had gone to Moranta because she fell ill during childbirth.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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