Chapter 9
“Mr. FitzGerald, we found her.” York exclaimed as he spun around after getting off the phone. “Ferris spilled the beans!!”
Rhett let out a snort of derision. “Hard nuts crack at last, huh? Who?”
“It’s Ms. Haywood, Hertha Haywood.” York replied, equally stunned. Hertha had depression, and rumor had it she attempted suicide six years ago.
“It’s coming back to me now! Among the guests at the hotel that night, there was the name. Hertha. But I didn’t connect the dots because she was on a different floor. Ferris said he had his sights on a different chick, but when he saw Ms. Haywood wander into the wrong room, he just rolled with it.”
York smacked his forehead, annoyed at himself for not thinking of that angle. “Ms. Hertha had a brush with death due to depression six years back, right after that shindig.”
Rhett’s brows knitted together. “Set course for the Haywood family residence,” he commanded.
At the FitzGerald Mansion, Vincent looked at Kristin loathingly, seemingly taken aback by how much she had changed.
“I never really knew you,” Vincent realized with a sense of betrayal, regretting his past blindness. How could he have ever seen Kristin as pure and kind–hearted? “Even using kids in your schemes, huh? So, what, you knew you couldn’t climb the ladder with me, so you set your sights on my brother?”
Kristin shook her head desperately, biting her lip. That wasn’t it. She hadn’t done that.
Hiding Summer behind her, Kristin pleaded with tearful eyes. “Vincent… I didn’t.”
“Kristin, look at yourself. Would you stoop to any level for money and what you want?” Vincent grabbed Kristin’s chin and dragged her to a mirror.
Kristin closed her eyes in fear. During her years in prison, her biggest dread was looking at her reflection.
Once upon a time, she was the treasured gem of the Turner family. But in prison, she stuck out like a sore thumb among the other inmates because of her delicate, smooth skin. The other inmates would humiliate her, beat her, and force her to look at her pathetic self in the mirror during showers.
She was terrified, begging and crying, but it was futile. No one came to her rescue.
She felt the whole world had abandoned her.
“You’re despicable. Kristin.” Despite his disgust, Vincent tore her clothes before the child.
“Vincent… please, not in front of the kid. I’m begging you…” Kristin trembled violently, her fingers growing icy with fear. Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.
She had a congenital heart condition and nearly died once in prison when she was bullied. At this time, it felt like death was looming again.
She struggled helplessly, resisting, desperately clinging to Summer, shielding his eyes and ears. “Don’t be scared. Don’t be scared. Summer’s brave.”
“Disgusting… Vincent recoiled in loathing. “Do you think I’d want you? Take a good look at yourself in the mirror, Kristin. You reek of the filth from jail, like a beggar on the streets. What man would desire you?”
Kristin stiffly hugged Summer, covering his ears with all her might.
Her son was innocent, regardless of the dirty circumstances of his arrival in this world.
Seeing Kristin in the mess, Vincent couldn’t understand why he was losing control of his
emotions.
There were things he didn’t want to say, but he couldn’t help the hatred he felt for Kristin. It was the hatred for the wrongs she had done to him, hatred for having a child with another man, a
bastard.
Six years ago, he pressured Kristin to terminate the pregnancy, but she insisted on keeping the baby. She said she had no family left, and that child was her reason to keep living.
“Mommy…” Summer hugged Kristin, sobbing and clumsily wiping the tears from Kristin’s face. “Mommy. Uncle Garner said, Summer’s a man and must protect Mommy.”
Kristin collapsed onto the floor, embracing Summer as she cried.
At that moment, all the wrongs she had endured over the years seemed worth it.
Her son was her only hope.
All these years, she’d thought about ending it all countless times in prison, but every time Garner visited with Summer, she felt like she had found the reason to live.